Believe in Magic
by Byzinha Lestrange
Summary: "In the end, it was a battle no one could fight for him. It was a battle to be battled on his own, with himself." / Lydia x Stiles x Malia, good luck for me!
1. Prologue

**Author's note:**

LOL remember when I said I would only write about TW again when the season was over? LOL so funny

Here I am and here's something a little bit more dramatic.

This is gonna be a romance and I have no idea what's gonna happen. I just had this great idea for a prologue and we'll see where it'll take us.

**Teen Wolf is not mine. I'm not that capable of causing such pain in people.**

**WARNING**: I'm not a very good writer and my english is not good. It might suck balls.

* * *

**Believe in magic  
**A Teen Wolf Fanfiction

"_If you are to ask me after all we've been through  
Still believe in magic? Oh, yes, I do_."  
Coldplay

**Prologue**

In the end, it was a battle no one could fight for him. It was a battle to be battled on his own, with himself.

In the end, he had blood in his hands, but it wasn't his hands. In the end he was the nogitsune and brought many people down – killed too many people.

In the end, he was shot and bitten and stabbed and weak and in the end it was a battle of his own, expelling the fox from his body, just as hard as it was to let it in.

And in the end he won.

"Stiles?" Lydia's voice came to him first. He was hurt, but he wanted to stand up. On his knees, he could see the blood scenery around him up close, but a face buried in tears and strawberry blond hair forced him to look straight. "Stiles, is it you?"

She was practically begging. There was blood in her face, but she still managed to look beautiful.

"Please, tell me it's you." She came closer, their noses touched. She whispered. "Please, be back for me."

Stiles was breathing heavily, his head light and body weaker every minute that passed. Lydia waited for her answer and he nodded.

"It's me, Lydia. I'm me."

Letting out the breath that she didn't know she was holding, Lydia smiled and kissed him.

"Thank God." She whispered in his lips, before kissing him again. He cracked a smile.

"You really look thankful." He joked, making her laugh. He laughed too, but started coughing. She helped him lay down and held his head in her hands.

"Call an ambulance, he's back!" she announced to someone he didn't see. And looking back at him she said again. "He's back."

-X-

Stiles was taken to the hospital, Scott by his side on the ambulance. He was hurt too, but he had his wolf power to help him heal. Lydia was following in the other ambulance with Allison, who was also badly injured. It was hard to keep his eyes opened and he tried to focus on his friend.

"Lydia kissed you, remember?" Scott said out of the blue, smiling. Stiles smiled.

"Yea, I remember, it was five minutes ago." He answered.

"One dream achieved."

"Nah, we'd kissed before."

"Really?"

Stiles nodded. "When our parents disappeared." His voice was husky and low. "Do you think she likes me?"

"Looks like it. She was really worried about you."

"Nice." He mumbled. His mind was foggy and he was a bit confused. He wanted to talk about Malia and how it kind of felt like he was cheating, but he wasn't strong enough to keep on talking. So he just closed his eyes to rest for a few minutes.

-X-

When they arrived to the hospital, Styles was conscious. He was immediately taken to the OR talking and cracking jokes with his husky voice. Told everyone he'd be back in a couple of hours, he just needed to get sewn.

In the first hour, Chris Argent joined them, after getting good news about his daughter. Sheriff Stilinski was passing from one point of the corridor to the other. Lydia and Scott sat side by side and Kira looked at them from the floor, her parents near the door of the floor.

With almost two hours, Malia run to them, right to the Sheriff.

"Where is he? Is he okay? Is he alive?" she demanded and the sheriff held her shoulders.

"He was very hurt and weak, and he's in surgery now, Malia. He'll be out soon enough."

She stopped for a second, letting the words sink in.

"So he's gonna be fine." The coyote girl said with a small smile.

"I hope so."

Relieved, Malia sat by Scott's side and he squeezed her knee lightly. Lydia looked at the girl with her front frowned, but decided to not pay too much attention to it now. The more important was Stiles and he was her focus.

Another hour passed, and with it came Melissa.

"So?" Sheriff Stalinski was the first one to ask, standing in front of her. "Why is it taking so long?"

"Stiles lost a lot of blood, and he's more hurt than we expected, but don't worry. The doctors are almost done and I could come here to talk to you guys."

"So he _is_ going to be okay?" Malia asked again.

"We are very optimistic, yes." Melissa answered, and there was a heavy sigh from everyone in that corridor.

She stood there answering a few questions, a hint of smile in everyone's mouth. Stiles would be fine, Allison would be fine, Isaac was fine already, they would all be fine.

And in a second the air changed.

Melissa's pager biped. She read the message and turned around with no explanation, running to the OR doors. Lydia felt her chest ache, something creeping up her throat. It was a familiar feeling now, one she never wanted more to push down than that day.

Malia felt it differently. First in her hands – that he held with such care that day in the Echo House -, then down her guts, like the period cramps that terrorized her in her human days. Breathing heavily, she stood up, walked toward the door still swinging after Melissa opened it; it was like she could read through the layers that separated her from Stiles' surgery room.

The sheriff, a little more desperate, demanded to the receptionist to tell him what was going on, while Chris tried to calm him.

Scott stood up too, all noises muffled. He was a few steps behind Malia, also looking to the doors, trying to capture what people were saying behind those doors, but there was these humming sound that deafened him. He only knew what was that sound when he looked at Lydia.

The girl wasn't okay. She was breathing heavily and her face was wet with tears; she was trying to hold her breath and no let any sound leave her mouth. When she opened her eyes, they met Scott's and the boy shook his head.

"No, Lydia." He said low. "No, don't scream."

She lowered her head, a loud sob trembled her body. She closed her eyes one more time, fighting back the feeling. But in the end, it was his own battle. In the end, he had to fight on his own. She raised her head once again.

"Lydia, please, don't." Scott begged one more time.

Two more tears dropped from her green eyes, she sobbed and that sob turned into a banshee scream all the supernatural and the ones who weren't supernatural could hear. Her scream put Scott to the ground, Malia and Kira closing their ears with their hands, and Lydia fell forward, crying so desperately they had to put her under.

In the end, one had to fall.

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**A/N**: Well, that's a hell of a long prologue. I hope you guys liked it.

I don't believe in Jeff Davis heart, but I love me some review.

x


	2. All your magic

******WARNING: the revised-not-such-ball-sucked version for when I re-read it is on and it still suck balls.**

**Author's note**:

Guys, what the hell?/?/

Srly. How do I begin to explain how amazing people around here are? I can't believe my eyes, guys, I just can't.

You are made of awesome. All of you. There's so many people who read and reviewed and followed the story in such short time, that never had happened to me before, I'm surprised and amazed!

This chapter would be a bit longer, but it's late and I have class tomorrow and if I left to write another time, it'd probably be out only in the end of the week, so I decided to shorten it. (it might or might not mean that maybe there will be another chapter by the end of the week. I make no promises)

Thank you to every single one of you who reviewd and favorited and followed my little fic. I hope I'm not disappointing you.

I also want to say that when I wrote the beginning of this chapter, it hurts. It wasn't meant to...

No, wait.

It was.

OMG. I'm becoming Jeff Davis!

Sorry. :(

**PS**: Guest 2 who reviewed in March 6, I hope you are right about me. I didn't think I wrote such genius thing. I really hope you are right and that I live up to your expectations.

Tissues recommended.

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**Chapter One: All your magic**

"_When darkness falls and surrounds you,  
When you fall down, when you're scared,  
and you're lost:  
Be brave_."  
Muse

In the beginning, Melissa McCall fought for him.

She ran through those corridors like her own life depended on it and entered his OR. The doctors were executing the procedures, trying to revive his heart with electroshocks. She lost precious minutes washing her hands to be able to cross those few steps that separated her from her son's best friend, a kid she raised like her own, especially after his mother passed away.

When Melissa finally stepped inside, the doctors were putting away the machines, but no biping sound was coming from the cardiogram.

"What are you doing? Why are you stopping?" she demanded, and immediately walked to Stiles and started a CPR.

"Melissa, the boy is dead." One of the doctors, Bob, said, touching her arm, but she shoved him off.

"NO! I'm not giving up on him!" she continued on the CPR. "Did you hear me, Stiles? I'm not giving up on you. Don't you dare dying on me."

Everything was quiet in the OR. One of the doctors, the same who tried to make her stop, started to help. She didn't realize she was crying until she felt the mask soaking in her tears.

"Come one, Stiles." She whispered.

Time was running out and his heart wasn't beating for way too long, but Melissa continued.

"Melissa." Someone behind her said. She ignored. "Melissa." He tried again, this time touching her shoulder lightly. She shivered. "The boy is dead."

She sobbed, and her hands went from the boy's chest to his hair.

"Stiles, please…" she begged. "Not after everything you went through, please." Someone pulled her from his body.

"Time of death." The doctor announced.

"Stiles?" Melissa called one more time.

"Eight forty-two."

"STILES!"

In the hall, Scott was sitting by Kira's side, head down, crying silently, the girl embraced him. He shivered when he heard his mother's scream; his heart sank as if it wanted to stop beating as well. They had taken Lydia already, because she was too nervous and couldn't stop crying. Her banshee self knew how to mourn. But standing up in the middle of the hall, still facing the doors, Malia was still. Her hands together in her venter – every place he touched -, cold, waiting.

She was losing him. They were all losing him.

And just as it came, it went. She was suddenly warm and took a relieved breath.

The machine biped. Heartbeat increased. Melissa fell to her knees, thanking for this little bit of magic.

-X-

Still crying, Melissa stumbled through the doors. Her eyes met Sheriff's and her tears became laugher.

"He's fine. He's back and he's fine."

Sheriff Stilinski, who just like Malia refused to cry without knowing for sure what was going on – he didn't care Lydia announced the dead, that piece he would not admit -, finally gave up when Melissa embraced him.

"Thank you, Mel. Thank you."

Smiling, Malia looked from them to her hands, and rubbed one in the other.

-X-

A couple of days before the bloody battle that removed the nogitsune from Stiles' body, the fox gave him a break and he broke into Malia's house. It was the first thing he did – go find her and apologize and tell her he only let the nogitsune take over him so she wouldn't get hurt – and she told him it was okay and they went for a walk. They ended up in his house and he showed her his books and his pillow and some photos. His favorite book was _Neverending Story_ and he had this old paperback that used to be his mom's and she used to read to him when he was little and he let Malia borrow it.

It was the book she was reading by his bedside while waiting for him to wake up.

"You felt it too, didn't you?" Someone asked from the door – Lydia -, and Malia raised her head and looked in the other girl's direction.

"What?"

"When he died. You felt it." Malia nodded, her heart aching just with the memory. She had no idea how she managed to stay calm that day. Anything could've triggered her transformation, but no. Lydia stepped inside. "I'm curious. How did you feel it?"

"Well…" she marked the page with her finger before answering. "I don't really know. I just felt… odd. Like… my hands were cold and…" Malia looked to her hands and smiled. "I guess every place he touched. I felt it deep down my uterus or something."

Lydia frowned.

"Every place he touched…?" and then it hit her. "Oh. I thought you were in a mental house."

Malia shrugged.

"Can't say it was _romantic_, but it sure was sweet."

"Oh." Lydia repeated, leaning on the bed. She wasn't expecting it at all.

"Scott told me you're a banshee." Malia said and Lydia nodded. "That must be cool."

"I'm still learning how to use it, but yeah." She smiled and they fell into silence for a few moments. "Hum… Malia, if you want to go eat something or… go home for a while, I can stay here with him."

The werecoyote thought for a second, analyzing her options. She took a hard look on Lydia and remembered how the girl reacted when her banshee thing kicked. She bit her lip, thinking harder, than let out a breath.

"Yeah, sure." Malia finally said. "I'm hungry and I really need to call my dad." She walked to the door, the book still in her hand, and Lydia called her one more time.

"Malia?" the girl turned around. "When you said you felt it in your uterus… you think you are pregnant with his baby?"

The werecoyote smiled, almost a laugh.

"Had my period last week, so no." she answered and Lydia let out a breath she was holding. "But he did something to me, you know? When Scott turned me back, he blocked me. I don't know what happened, but I couldn't turn anymore. But when Stiles touched me the way he touched me - you know what I said about the hands? - I started to feel able to shift again. My eyes glow and in the full moon, the coyote… it wanted to break free. Scott said he'll teach me to control it next month."

"Scott is a good teacher, you'll see." Lydia affirmed proudly and remembered that Stiles was even better.

With nothing else to say but nod, Malia left, leaving Lydia finally alone with Stiles. He was there, in a coma, for two days, but Lydia only had the courage to show up now. And for the first time she looked at him.

He was beaten. There were marks in his arms and his face, still in that purple-ish state. She could only imagine how many times he was punched and kicked and stabbed, how many bullets he took. For one thing they could thank the nogitsune: it kept him alive.

She moved closer, to the spot where Malia once was, and held Stiles' hand, sat in his bed.

"Hi." Lydia whispered. "I miss you. Can you wake up?" she asked and waited for a moment to see if he responded. "I guess not yet, huh? It's okay. The important thing is… you're healing, aren't you? So soon enough you'll be back for real." She swallowed and held his hand tighter. "You have to, Stiles, because I can't be the only brain around, I won't be able to take care of anyone the way you do. You're our advisor."

Lydia paused, thinking. Stiles _was_ their advisor. He was smart and clever and he was the one who always figured everything out - she had said it herself not long before. He helped Scott and Malia said he helped her too, somehow. He was an emissary.

"Is there anyone in this town who's a normal human being?" she asked to herself, maybe louder than she intended, and a bit embarrassed she looked at him again. "I know I've been oblivious for way too long. I'm sorry for all the times I ignored you. I never thought I'd have someone who'd wait for me, and you showed up. I never thought it was possible. You were around telling me the contrary and I did nothing. Now you have her." she paused, swallowed hard. "I don't condemn you, Stiles. Just… don't forget me, okay?"

Lydia waited again, hoping for him to wake up, but got nothing.

"Okay." She said one more time and sat on the chair by his side.

-X-

Stiles was never alone, for always one of his friends, or one of his friend's parents, or Malia, or his father were with him. But he didn't woke from the coma quickly.

It was in the fourth afternoon, when Malia – the only kid who didn't go to school – was sleeping in the chair by his bed, her head rested in the mattress, one of her hands in his. He moved, held her hand, and she immediately woke up. When she saw he was awake, she stood up, smiling happily. The girl was so amazed she didn't even know what to do.

"Hello, beautiful." Stiles said huskily, making her laugh and step ahead, sit on his bed.

"Finally." She whispered, and lightly lay her head on his chest. "Don't ever do that again."

"Which part?" he asked. "Be possessed by a wicked spirit or leaving you alone in a crossroad or basement?" it was meant to be a joke, but when Malia replied, she was very serious.

"Die on me." She said, looking into his eyes and for the first time the tears accumulated in hers. "Do you know what it is? Stiles, you were _dead_. They declared your time of death and I felt you were gone."

"Did you?" Stiles asked surprised.

"I felt cold and hollow. As if part of me was gone. And you were dead! God damn it, Stiles, I almost lost y-" he shushed her with a kiss so soft she for a second thought they weren't even touching lips. Then the kiss deepened, one of his hands in her hair, the other on her chest, feeling her heartbeat. "You have a terrible breath now." Malia whispered.

"Do you mind?" he asked, looking in her eyes. And the same way she did in the basement of the Echo House, Malia just smiled and shook her head, leaning to kiss him again.

They didn't see Lydia standing outside the room, nor could know how long it took for her to leave.

-X-

"How are you feeling?" she asked much latter. He gave her space in the bed and she was laying on her side, looking at him.

"Like shit." Stiles answered.

"You _look_ like shit."

He smiled.

"Thanks." And after a moment. "How's Allison?"

Malia took one second to respond.

"Still in a coma. When she wakes up, she'll need physiotherapy."

"You mean _if_?"

"No. I mean _when_. We are all very optimistic she WILL wake up. You did. Did I mention you were dead?"

"Maybe. I can't remember the first tenth times you used the term 'death'."

She punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"A-hole." And Stiles laughed. He sounded stronger each minute. "It's not your fault, you know that?"

"I want to believe it." He said after a few seconds. "But sometimes is hard not to blame yourself over things you can't control."

They looked at each other and smiled sadly, for both of them were damaged people responsible for things out of their control. A couple of minutes later, Melissa and doctor Bob entered, Sheriff Stilinski right behind them.

Fast as a cat, Malia climbed out of bed and gave space for father and son, just like sheriff did when she was reunited with her dad. She grabbed her book and sat in the sofa across the room, waited for her time to come again. She was so deep in the story, she only realized the sheriff was standing in front of her when he spoke.

"Where did you get this book?" he asked, but it wasn't an accusation. Malia looked up, but Stiles responded.

"I lent to her, dad."

She gave space for him to sit and nodded.

"I saw the cover." She said to him. And flipped to the front cover. Behind it, there was a dedication.

"It was Claudia's, her father gave it to her." He pointed the name on the base of the dedication. "We named Stiles after him."

Malia looked at the name one more time, than looked at Stiles with a small smile.

"Don't even start." He threatened pointing a finger mockingly and she laughed.

"Are you liking it?" the Sheriff insisted, distracting her for the doctor was telling Stiles to remove his hospital gown. She wanted to tell him that there was no surprise in there, since they failed greatly in keeping their clothes on even after they decided to slow down the relationship. Instead, Malia talked about the book.

"Yes, I'm loving it! I had only seen the movies, but boy, the book is amazing!"

They talked for a long time about books within books and fantastic stories and how life was surreal until Stiles interrupted them.

"May I have this dance?"

Malia looked at him. He was standing in front of her, one hand extended, back in the hospital gown.

"Which dance?"

"This one. To prove the doctor I'm strong and fine."

She took his hand and stood up.

"Were you supposed to be standing, Mr. Stilinski?"

"Are you kidding me?" he held her waist and they started to sway around the room over imaginary music. "Of course not! I guess I'm a miracle."

She laughed.

"You are."

"Please, don't say again that I was dead."

Malia looked down and they stopped dancing. She exchanged a look with his dad and raised her head, then got on her tiptoes and kissed Stiles gently.

"I'm gonna leave you two now. Stay alive."

"Okay, Haymitch." He replied to her back. He saw her take the book and leave the room and waited another minute for the doctor exam and ask what he had to and then turned to his father. "I guess we had better days, huh?"

Sheriff Stilinski oscillated between different reactions before choosing one. He didn't know what brought Stiles back, nor if the kid would turn into a were-something or if he was something else. Stiles was alive. He smiled to his son, and his son smiled back.


	3. Broken into two

**Author's note**:

I guess this fic didn't live up to its expectations, because I got so little reviews with chapter one :(

But it's okay, I guess. There are some awesome people reading and reviewing, and I thank them for that.

(Guest One, though, who reviewed "stydia stydia stydia": ...really?)

Have you guys watched the last episode? I KNEW I had to wait the season end! I promise I will try to manipulate this fiction according to what the last episodes give us, but we'll only have something solid in a week and a half. While season 3B still is among us, I'll do what I can.

I hope you guys like this chapter. I was reading some poetry in english - because I need to get used to it for my degree in letters is english - and because, really, what's the point of reading poetry if not in it's original language? - when I found what I think is the best example of Malia and Stiles' connection. It's a fragment of Eloisa to Abelard, by Alexander Pope (and no, it's not the "eternal sunshine of the spotless mind" part, don't worry) and I hope you guys can see it too. (it has so many key words, it's amazing, srly)

I'll leave you to the chapter. **You must remember**, though, **that I'm not very good** and I probably need a beta reader, but I don't have one.

I appreciate the good words you guys give me and I hope you like this chapter just as much.

You can also inbox me to point out what I should change in matter of bad spelling or just wrong ideas of sentence construction - some things are so different from english to portuguese when you're writing; sometimes something that makes perfect sense in portuguese just doesn't come right in english.

Anyway. Here we go.

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**Chapter two: Broken into two**

"_T__he woods are lovely, dark and deep,  
But I have promises to keep,  
And miles to go before I sleep,  
And miles to go before I sleep_."  
Robert Frost

"Part of him was still inside me. He wanted me gone. If he wouldn't live, neither would I." Stiles told Malia soberly. "I pushed him down and that's when Lydia found me, right after the full moon set. But at the hospital, he found his way back and stopped my heart."

-X-

He brought her to his house so she could know a part of him and he could know a part of her. He didn't have much time, the nogitsune said until midnight and midnight only.

His house was empty, because his father was trying to find him, just like everyone in town, just like he'd been doing since November, when the nogitsune took over his son.

It was around five o'clock, and Malia was going through his books.

"You have a lot of poetry here." She said and her voice was like a smile. He raised his head, looking away from the book he had in hands – Michael Ende's _Neverending Story_.

"Yeah, I do. I like it. Actually…" he reached for one of the books in her hands, one by Alexander Pope. "there's a poem in here that kind of reminds me of you."

She smiled – that full smile of hers, with bright eyes and white teeth.

"You are not going to roses-are-red me, are you?"

He looked at her a little bit offended, but her smile put down his guard. Instead, he just recited part of the poem, without even looking to the open page.

"Oh happy state! When souls each other draw,/When love is liberty, and nature, law:/All then is full, possessing and possess'd,/No craving void left aching in the breast:/Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part,/And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart."

When he finished, Malia didn't know what she was feeling. All she knew was that she couldn't breathe and that Stiles was amazing and that was why she couldn't breathe. Because he thought about her as poetry and it was beautiful.

"I don't know, it reminds me of us, how we… got together." He started to explain himself and she got closer. "It was so intense and fluid and I remember thinking about those lines when you started taking off your cloth-" she interrupted him resting one finger on his lips.

"I loved." She whispered looking in his eyes. "I loved everything you said and I agree."

Slowly, she lowered her hand. They looked at each other for a second and then collapsed in each other's arms, a battle of hands, lips and tongues. Malia was delicate and warm and Stiles wanted to touch her, he wanted to feel every single part of her skin and at that very moment he knew he would destroy the nogitsune, because he really wanted this girl and it could not happen if he wasn't him.

However, Stiles wasn't stupid to think he was in love with Malia and had completely forgotten Lydia. It was not true, and Lydia still finds her way back to his mind more frequently than is healthy. But a reality that hit him was that there, being with Malia, didn't feel as betrayal. As if the girl was gaining her own space inside him.

They parted, but didn't step back, staying just as close as they were while kissing, catching their breaths.

"We don't need to hurry, you know?" Stiles said to Malia, and she looked confused.

"I thought you said midnight."

"Not about it. About _this_." He pointed her and himself. "Because we'll have enough time."

"Will we?"

"Yeah."

"How come?" she asked, a little smile on her lips.

"I'm gonna destroy him – the nogitsune. I'm going to win this fight and I'm gonna stay alive and we'll have all the time in the world..." He kissed the corner of her mouth and his next words were whispered. "So we can know each other, really know each other, instead of jumping right into sex, and we can decide if we like one another and with time I can love you, I guess."

He said everything placing kisses on her neck and her chin and Malia was breathing more heavily than when they were glued by their tongues.

"Sounds good." She whispered, her hands in his back and under his shirt, touching his skin. He looked in her eyes.

" I think so too."

"We should totally wait, since you'll not die." Malia said with a nod.

"Yeah." He agreed.

The following second, they were kissing again, with more eagerness than before, taking off clothes and stumbling to the bed. She unzipped his pants and he laid her down the sheets, kissing her from mouth to the line of her panty, slowly and dedicatedly, before removing the piece.

"Stiles…" Malia trembled, when he started provoking her, kissing the inside of her thighs.

"Am I doing it right?" he asked, suddenly worried and she frowned.

"I don't know, just… _don't stop_." The last two words sounded like an order and Stiles smiled, going back to business. Shivering and felling as warm as she never had before, Malia moaned. "_Holy crap_."

-X-

He kissed her shoulder, traced her spine with his fingers. Malia was laying on her stomach, flipping through the pages of his _Neverending Story_, trying not to look interested. It was almost 7 p.m. and his dad wasn't home yet.

"You can borrow it, if you want." Stiles said, placing more kisses toward her neck. "As long as you, you know, bring it back."

She smiled and put the book aside.

"I can do that."

"Good."

They looked at each other, both smiling, and kissed. Maybe they kissed a million times already, but they never got tired of it. She put her hands in his chest, made him lay down. It was her turn to be on top. And by the look in his face, she did it pretty well.

-X-

"What do you think made you come back?" Malia asked. They were in his room, back from the hospital. She was tracing the scars in his stomach he was able to heal, but not to erase – scars made by the Oni and Kira's sword. It was very discreet, but it still was there. He was twirling her hair.

"I can't know for sure, but I guess it was Melissa. I remember being in this dark room with nothing but my conscience, and I remember thinking… '_is this what death feels like_?'. It was just wrong and I felt trapped. I knew I had promises to keep and so much life ahead of me, I just _couldn't_ die. Not right there and then, it was too soon. And when I realized it, I heard her. She was calling me and it gave me strength to reach out for her. What?"

"Damn. And I was thinking it was all about me." She joked, but was half hurt, half curious about his resurrection. Stiles smiled.

"I thought about it, you know? I thought I didn't make it and didn't have the chance to be with you or my dad or my friends again. I thought I failed everyone, because he was holding my heart still. But the faith Melissa put in me in that table, woke me up, made me fight this last fight and come back." He shook his head, his eyes sad. "I had to do things, Malia, this past year. Things that darkened my heart and I will have this darkness forever. But I also have people in my life that can make it brighter. You're one of those people, and I want you to stay."

Malia smiled and kissed him.

"Sounds like a plan." She said in his lips.

"A good one?"

"A _great_ one."

They laughed and he pulled her closer. She rested her head on his chest.

"You are a lucky guy, Stiles." She said.

"I know." He replied, caressing her back. "Derek wasn't as lucky, unfortunately."

There was a moment of silence and because she was so close, she heard his heart slow down.

"You don't know that."

"Malia, I _remember_ it. I remember the feeling of the knife going through his chest and his heart. It feels as real as I can feel you know."

Malia sighed.

"I heard Derek was considered dead lots of times." She pointed. "And no one found the body. No, don't come to me with all the feelings about stabbing him, I refuse." She cut, when she felt he was about to say something. "It wasn't you, it was the nogitsune in you. And he's _not. Dead_."

Stiles didn't reply at first. Then he sighed.

"I admire your faith."

-X-

Lydia knocked at the Stilinski's door, almost unable to stay quiet. She had good news to tell Stiles, and couldn't wait to see him. They didn't talk much after he woke up and she saw him with Malia, but the time they spent together was nice and good.

They never talked about the kiss, nonetheless. She didn't want to bring it up, first because it happened in a dark moment of their lives, second he seemed to be pretty serious with Malia and third, it was kind of painful for Lydia. She refused for a long time to _feel_ things regarding Stiles, and she convinced herself they were friends and they would stay friends and he'd stop obsessing over her – which was working! -, and she didn't want to start _feeling things_ now. Talk about the kiss and how helpless she felt when he died would only allow it to happen.

"Oh, hi, Lydia." Sheriff Stilinski greeted, opening the door and she smiled.

"Is Stiles home?"

"Sure. I'm not letting him out in a million years, now." He said, letting her in. Lydia laughed.

"Good luck with that." She replied. "The boy knows how to be sneaky."

The sheriff laughed, because he knew it was true. It didn't matter how much he tried to keep Stiles away from his work, the boys always found a way to know what was going on and give his opinion.

"He's in his room, go ahead." He told her, and Lydia walked to where he pointed.

Stiles' house was familiar to her. They were getting closer, before the nogitsune thing, so she knew where to go and where to step. But when she opened the door to Stiles' room, it was empty.

"Stiles?" Lydia called, looking around.

It was different, the room. He removed the pictures of open cases from the walls and put an Arcade Fire poster on its place. The room was lighter, but still messy, clothes thrown here and there and many piles of paper. The whole picture made her smile, but he wasn't there, so she didn't have much to do.

She stepped in the corridor, looking left, towards the living room, wondering where could he be, and when she turned right, she hit him so hard she lost her balance. Stiles reached to stead her.

"Easy, Lydia." He said, with a smile and she smiled back, before getting a bit distracted by his half-nakedness.

Stiles was very different than the guys she usually went for in lots of ways. He was very nice, for a start. Even though he was very sarcastic, he wasn't a jerk. That's why she couldn't relate what the nogitsune did to her wearing his features to this guy: because it was so different than who Stiles really is. Physically, Stiles also was skinny and looked pretty much harmless, if she didn't know better. But at that moment he only had a towel on, and his hair was wet and he had this little smile in his lips that was very, very tempting.

"Hey." She managed to say, trying not to look down and keep her eyes locked in his.

"I wasn't expecting to see you."

"Oh, yeah." She suddenly remembered why she was there. "I tried to call, but you didn't pick up, so…" she leaned on the wall across from him. "Allison woke up."

At first, the new made no effect in him, but a second later, his eyes widened.

"Did she?" he asked, clear relief in his voice. Lydia smiled and she felt her eyes water.

"Yes. She's awake and talking. She can also feel her legs, which is good, right? She can move her toes and all."

"Yeah, that's great!" he replied. "Oh God, that's great!" he echoed and embraced Lydia, turning with her, both of them laughing. "I was so worried."

Stiles stopped and put her on the floor, but Lydia didn't let go of him, one hand on his shoulder and the other touching the thin scar in his right chest.

"I know."

"If she didn't live… if I had harmed her bad enough and she couldn't walk… how could I live with that?" he asked, but it was more like he was talking to himself.

"Stiles…"

"I mean, I don't even know how _you_ stand to be around me! What the nogitsune…"

"Please, stop, Stiles." Lydia said, firmly. "It wasn't you and it wasn't your fault. Stop blaming yourself."

"Well, it's not easy, you know?" Stiles replied serious. "He was using my body and left a lot of vivid memories, just to make sure."

"But we know who you are, Stiles. And the thing that hurt us was not you. So quit whining."

Finally, he was smiling again.

"I came to bring good news, okay?" Lydia continued, smiling as well.

"Really?" someone said and they looked right. At the bathroom door was Malia, around a towel, damp hair, looking from one to another curiously. Only then Lydia realized she still was touching Stiles and they parted. "About what?"

"Allison." Stiles answered and Lydia nodded.

"Yeah, she woke up!"

Malia smiled, surprised.

"Did she? Really? And how is she feeling?"

"As good as someone who just woke up from a coma, I guess." Lydia answered. "And not as good as Stiles when he woke up. He was practically healed, but Allison will need physiotherapy. But she's strong and she'll be one hundred percent soon, you'll see."

"That's amazing!" said Malia, who came closer while Lydia was talking. She patted Stiles' arm. "What did I told you? Everything will be okay." She kissed his shoulder. "I'll let you too talk."

The werecoyote entered in Stiles' room and closed the door.

"Did you tell her?" Lydia asked.

"Which part?"

She looked at him as if it was obvious.

"Peter's, obviously."

"Oh, she seems aware. Scott was giving her the pep talk when I still was in the hospital."

"I shouldn't tell him about her." Lydia complained to herself.

"Hey, he would've make you talk any moment."

She nodded agreeing.

"True." And after a second, she continued, changing the subject. "But how have you been feeling? Did you figure out what you are?"

"No. But I was talking with Scott and Malia, we're thinking about having a little chat with Deaton."

"Yeah, I thought about it too. I really think you should go."

"Deaton and Peter seem to have answers for many things." Stiles commented.

"They lived too much, I think."

"Boy, _we_ lived too much, and we're seventeen!" he exclaimed and Lydia laughed. It was true. "Imagine when we're their age?"

"I don't want to imagine it. Future is a kind of nostalgia, I want to live right now."

Stiles smiled.

"Stop reading John Green, Lydia."

She looked at him, a little smirk in her lips.

"Busted." Lydia said, pointing at him. She looked to the closed door. "I guess I'm gonna get going. I just wanted to tell you about Allison."

"Well, thank you. I think I'm going to the hospital tomorrow to see her."

"Do it. She wants to talk to you." She reached her hand to say goodbye, but Stiles took it to pull her closer and he kissed her forehead.

"I'd walk you to the door, but…" he said, releasing her and she waved it off.

"It's okay."

"See you, Lydia."

"See you, Stiles."

* * *

**Author's note**:

About Alexander Pope's verses: what did you guys think? I think it summarizes Echo House's episode. I'm gonna rewrite it, because everyone forgot it already, and highlight the key words.

_Oh happy state! **When souls each other draw**,_  
_When love is liberty, and nature, law:_  
_**All then is full, possessing and possess'd**,_  
_**No craving void left aching in the breast**:_  
_Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part,_  
_And **each warm wish springs mutual from the heart**._

I don't know, I just really like it.

Anyway.

What you guys want to see with the whole Lydia-Stiles-Malia situation?

Again: thank you for reading, following, favorite and review it. It means a lot.

I have no idea what's going to happen, but I love me some review.

x


	4. I disappear from view

**Author's note**:

YOU GUYS! EPISODE 23! My heart is broken! And I don't even like Allison all that much. It was just as painful as Grace! (remember Grace? From _Skins_ gen 3? ._.)

I thought she was the one who was going to die, though. (Remember _The Scar on Our Hearts_? Huh? Huh?) And the initial plan here was to kill Allison instead of Stiles in the prologue+chapter one, you know? Lydia screamed and it'd be both kids dying, but only Allison would really go. But I thought, well, people would think I really disliked Allison, for I killed her two fics in a roll, so she got the chance to live here. For a while.

Like I said, I'm gonna try to pull this fanfic as close as possible to what happens in the end of season 3B, and next chapter will only be on when the season finale is aired (I hope we get a hint of Malia).

I really want to thank everyone who reviewed! It means a lot to me, really, you're all so wonderful!

Special thanks to guest **Albus**, who had so many kind words to say. s2

And guest **Jessi**: I don't think you looked close enough, I did not paired Stiles and Lydia in the filters. Even though we WILL have some Stydia eventually, this is not a Stydia fanfic. If you hate Malia so much, you might as well find another fanfic to read, because _Believe in magic_ will have a lot of the werecoyote. And if you are gonna come here just to be rude and push your ship down my throat... I'm too old for this. Please stop? And please know that I love Stydia, I loved them since season 1, but I don't think it's gonna work anymore and I'm really looking forward to see what the writers are going to do with them.

I'm leaving you guys with a bittersweet chapter.

**Friendly reminder that my english suck and that I'm sorry.**

* * *

**Chapter three: I disappear from view**

"_And if you're still bleeding, you are the lucky ones,  
'Cause most of our feelings, they are dead  
and they are gone_."  
Daughter

They arrived at the hospital, hand in hand, without noticing the strange movement in the pediatric floor, that was the floor where Stiles were previously and where Allison was, for she still had a few days before her eighteenth birthday. They didn't realize something was wrong until they got to Allison's room, where a group of doctors tried to revive her, Melissa holding Chris, so he let the specialists do their thing.

Stiles just stood there at the door, dry mouth, and wondered if that was how everyone felt when _he_ was the one with an un-beating heart: this helplessness and emptiness.

Malia held his hand tighter when they tried to resurrect Allison one last time and were unsuccessful, the machine beeping like an un-responding heart.

Allison was gone.

The doctors cleared and one of them declared the time of death, letting Chris come to his daughter.

Only then, Melissa saw Stiles at the door. She walked towards him, sad eyes, and touched his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Stiles." She whispered.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice weak.

"Her organs failed. It was so fast…" she looked back, remembering how she begged for Stiles' life not so long ago and how it'd be beautiful if Chris got her same piece of miracle, to hear his girl's heart after thinking it was all lost, just like this boy was standing in front of her now.

"She's not coming back, is she?" Stiles said, knowing the answer. He blinked and felt the tear in his cheek. "A thunder doesn't strike the same place twice." Finally, he looked away from his friend's body. "You should call Scott." He said, before turning and practically ran away from there, leaving Malia behind.

She let him go, so he could have some private moment, and when she stepped outside the hospital, Stiles was screaming and punching his jeep. Malia waited one more minute before stepping closer. She didn't know Allison, but knew that it was thanks to the hunter that she wasn't shot by her own father in the woods. She knew that it was thanks to Allison that Lydia and Stiles were free from some sort of prison that the nogitsune put them. They all owed the girl so much.

Reaching out, Malia touched Stiles' back and he turned to her abruptly, startling her. He was devastated and for that there were no words to say. He embraced her, lifting her up a bit, so he could rest his head on her chest, her back leaning on the jeep.

"It's okay, let it out." She said low, caressing his hair, letting him cry. "Let it all out."

They were like that for several minutes until Stiles calmed down, and suddenly he raised his head.

"Lydia."

-X-

Most of the ride was in silence.

"Do you really want me to go with you?" Malia asked. Stiles didn't answer immediately.

"Yes." He said firmly.

A few minutes later, he was parking in front of Lydia's house. He had turned off his phone, because he didn't want to receive any call, but Malia retrieve it from the back seat of the car, before jumping out. Stiles already was at the door, talking to Lydia's mother, who reluctantly let them in.

"I talked to your father," she was telling Stiles, while guiding him to Lydia's room "and I'm so sorry about Allison. That girl was very precious. But Lydia doesn't want to talk or see anyone, she's shutting me out. I don't know if you are gonna have any success."

Stiles looked from Mrs. Martin to Malia and then to the banshee's bedroom door.

"Let me handle with her, okay?"

"What?"Malia asked confused.

"I just… I'll just need a moment with her."

Mrs. Martin was playing nervously with her collar, deciding if it was a good idea, then nodded.

"Okay." She said, and touched Malia's arm. "Come on here, sweetie, do you like chocolate cake?"

Stiles kissed Malia in the cheek and then saw her go with Lydia's mom going to the kitchen, before knocking. He had no idea what to do, now that he was there. He knew what he felt, only; guilty and pain. And could only imagine how Lydia was.

"Lydia?" he called, opening the door slowly. "It's me. I'm coming in."

When he closed the door behind him, he saw her. Lydia was laying on her side, no make up on, looking deadly to a point in her wall. She barely moved when he came closer.

"Lydia?"

"I don't understand." She whispered and he leaned towards her, for he didn't hear.

"Pardon?"

"I don't understand." Lydia repeated, a little stronger, but still a whisperer. "She was fine, I talked to her yesterday."

After a moment, Stiles spoke again.

"Melissa told me her organs failed. I was there when they were trying to bring her back."

Lydia looked at him for the first time. Her eyes were red, her face marked with tears. When she spoke, now louder, he noticed that her voice was husky and realized that she probably had a banshee scream for Allison at the moment of her death.

"Did you get to talk to her?" Lydia asked and he shook his head.

"I got there too late."

She nodded and a tear dropped from her eyes. Stiles held her hand, helping to comfort her and Lydia sat up.

"It's not fair." She complained, more tears dropping.

"I know." He replied. "But at the end of the day, Allison was just human." Stiles reminded and Lydia nodded, remember herself of their supernatural powers.

"She managed to do that, huh? Stay human in a world of supernatural." Lydia said, putting her hand on Stiles'. "It's a noble thing to be, human."

"She should be celebrated." Stiles decided right there and them. "We should do something to celebrate her life and bravery and friendship and to let her family know that she won't be forgotten-"

He was interrupted by Lydia embracing him. The moment of surprise lasted one second and he embraced her back and letting her cry in his arms the way he cried in Malia's just an hour before.

"Thank you, Stiles. For being my friend and for being here. It's important." She said and he even thought about answering, but decided to keep his mouth shut. He played with her strawberry blonde hair a bit before she talked again. "Lay down with me?" she asked, looking into his eyes. "Please?"

"Hm…" he thought for a second. "Okay."

And he did just it, lay over the sheets after taking off his shoes, and Lydia lay down by his side, her head in his chest, just enjoying the company and small talking. He calmed her down and in less than an hour, when Mrs. Martin went to check on them, Lydia was already asleep and Stiles left with Malia before the sunset.

-X-

"Scott was trying to reach you." Malia said while they walked to the jeep, handing him his phone. Stiles turned to her and took the phone.

"I told you to leave it on the car." He said, a bit annoyed.

"Your _friend_ is worried about you." She replied firmly. He wouldn't be annoyed with her for caring, she wouldn't allow it. "And I am too. I don't want you to shut to the world, Stiles. I did that and it sucked." He sighed and looked away, but she got closer and forced him to look at her. "Ring him."

He looked in her eyes and touched her cheek, sliding his fingers to her hair, and Malia gave him a little smile.

"Okay, I'll call. When we get home, I will. Promise."

"He's in deep grief, too. Remember?"

"Yes. I'll call him. I just need to go home."

"Okay." She reached for the handle and entered in the car. Stiles turned to take the wheel and before he started the car, he stood there looking at her. "What?" Malia asked, her voice small and suddenly shy.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Stiles asked and her eyes widened a bit in surprise.

"Well, I didn't think about it…" Malia started and he looked at her with puppy eyes. "Why?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I feel safe with you." She smiled, her eyes softening. "And I don't think I've ever felt this safe with anyone since my mom died."

"Are you comparing me with your mom?"

"No!" Stiles answered quickly. "A bit, yes. But not like in a motherly way, because there's nothing motherly in those hips, I'm telling you, you're just wild and cozy."

"Cozy?"

"And hot. You're a beast. The prettiest of them all. God, you're so beautiful."

"Do I have to shut you up all the time?" she asked mockingly and he closed his mouth, smiling.

"See?" Stiles said, referring to everything that just happened. "That's why I need you."

Malia nodded.

"You make me feel good, Stilinski." She whispered, leaning her head on the seat back and he pulled her closer.

"You make me feel good too, Tate-Hale."

She made a face, because it still was very confusing for her not being sure who her father really was and if she was part of an important werewolf lineage. She just had gotten her family back, just to have it taken from her once again and she was not ready. That's why the mention of the Hale's surname gave her goose bumps.

But the feeling was gone pretty fast when Stiles kissed her. It made her forget to ask him what he was doing with Lydia during the hour she was left with Mrs. Martin and her cakes, ask what was really going on between him and the banshee. Made her forget to ask him what did he thinks about Peter Hale and if she should trust him, because he seemed very interested in teach her things and made she also forget that they just had lost a friend. But she guessed Stiles forgot that last part too.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, when they parted. "We can stop to get some KFC or something."

"God, no, I ate so much chocolate cake! I'm not hungry."

He made the puppy face again.

"Sorry about that. Lydia was so upset, I talked herself to sleep. Kind of."

"It's okay, her mom is really nice."

"I didn't get to eat cake, though." He stated, and Malia raised an eyebrow. "KFC?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Fine. But you call Scott while we are on the line."

"Deal." He finally started the car and looked at her one more time. "Are you staying with me tonight?"

Malia bit her lip, then nodded.

"Yes. Gonna ring Mr. Tate and let him know I'm not coming home 'til tomorrow."

Stiles smiled, a real smile that was so broken during that day.

"Thank you."

-X-

That night, the Stilinski let not only Malia, but Scott crash in. The werecoyote shared the bed with Stiles, Scott on the floor, and she finished the book Stiles had borrowed her while the boys talked about life and death and Allison and memorials and memories and she got to opine here and there, but mostly she just lay there, with Stiles' arms around her, thinking that he was the cozy one and feeling her heart light, as a bond was forming.

It kind of felt like home.

* * *

**A/N**: And this is the end of another chapter.

(I put Daughter's _Youth_ as epigraph, sorry! Sometimes it's inevitable)

Thank you all for reading and I'm waiting for your review!

x


	5. Call it true

**Author's note**:

Hello guys, it's been a while, sorry. I know I was supposed to post last week, but, you know, I have a life and a life at college D; I had a massive test last week and I'm gonna have another one this week (I swear to God these greek letters are messing with my head) and next week I'll have another one (latin. can this be any worse? Answer: no).

Also, now that the season ended, I wasn't sure how to start this new chapter. I had so many ideas and wasn't sure what to do first, so... I don't know, I wanted to start showing a little dark side of Malia - since she's a trickster AND a Hale - and start to develop the "powerful trio of girls" that Jeff said will be important in season four.

This chapter was supposed to be longer, but I thought better and cut it. It may or may not mean that perhaps there'll be another chapter soon. I make no promises. Remember about my latin test.

(but maybe, just maybe, I'll post after the lollapalooza concerts. WHO KNOWS? wait and see)

The actions going on in this chapter I'm gonna explain better in the next chapter. That I can promise.

**I don't know, man, my english really sucks. Good luck.**

Thank you all for the amazing reviews. Sometimes I can't believe how nice you all are to me - even when you're pointing things I need to get better. **I need a beta reader, for real. Volunteers?**

**PS**: I'm running out of lines from Coldplay's _Magic_ lyrics, I think I'll need to find a new song?

* * *

**Chapter four: Call it true**

"_Ain't nobody fucking with my clique.  
Ain't nobody fresher than my motherfucking clique_."  
Kanye West

"We have a new student." Mr. Yukimura said at the beginning of the class, making Malia look up. Oh no. "Malia, can you come here and present yourself?"

She cursed under her breath and looked around, all eyes on her, then stood up. Kira had said her father was good at make people get embarrassed, she should be waiting for it. She could hear some whisperers about how she was too old to be a sophomore, how late she was enrolling, since it was the end of March already and how she arrived with her hand on Stiles', as if all of that was other people's business.

"Man, I hate school." She complained, heading to the front of the class. Mr. Yukimura smiled at her, encouraging her. She cleared her throat. "Okay. Hi. I'm Malia Tate and I'm new." She said nervously.

"Weren't you supposed to be a Junior?" a girl asked, raising her hand. Malia had memorized the girl's face already; she was portrayed as the bully, according to Stiles. Her name was Hanna and she had her blonde hair on a ponytail.

"I was." Malia answered. "I would. If I hadn't spent the last eight years wandering around after the car accident. Yes, it's me, the girl Sheriff Stilinski found in the woods."

"If you never went to school in eight years," Hanna's friend, Lucia, started to ask. Malia wondered when that presentation became a Q&A, she was only supposed to say a few words. "shouldn't you be in seventh grade or something?"

"Well…" she would get to that point even without the interruptions. "Maybe. But I learn fast and since I came back, father signed me a tutor - Ms. Morrell, who teaches French here. She gave me a lot of homework and reading exercises and math problems and it was quite fun. Sometimes. Well, most of time it was just boring. So she told my father I had some "anger issues", for a few other reasons than my learning schedule, and suggested he'd sign me into Eichen House, where I was for about four days. It was where I met Stiles." She added with a small smile. "And then he helped me catch up with school too."

"Is it true that he died?" Hanna asked. Her tone was so annoying, Malia wanted to punch her in the face.

"Yes."

"How is it – to be dead?"

Malia looked at her for a long moment, considering her options. Hanna was trying to make her lose her temper; she was blatantly provoking her just to test her boundaries, but the werecoyote wouldn't bite it.

"Ask him, if you are so interested." Was her answer and something flashed in Hanna's eyes. She smelled anger and smiled again. Malia was the one provoking her now and the girls needed step back, no one would mess with her.

"Okay, Malia." Mr. Yukimura interrupted, sensing the tension. "You can sit now. I hope Marin filled you with the whole Great War matter, because that's our subject today.

And when she sat down on her chair, she gave a last look at Hanna. The girl's anger was tangible, tasting acid in Malia's tongue. She raised an eyebrow and focused on the class.

-X-

At lunch break, she finally signed her locker (there was something wrong with the archives, since so many students had died in the last year and a half) and went to Stiles' jeep take her things to fill the locker. It took good five minutes to find the right corridor and the number on the piece of paper in her hands, but Malia managed to do it with no help.

"You got Erica's locker." Stiles said behind her, making her turn around startled and drop all the things she was holding. He helped her pick it up. "Sorry."

"It's okay." She replied, smiling. He held her books and she turned to open the padlock. "What did you say?"

"You got Erica's locker." He said again.

"And who's Erica?"

"Was." Stiles corrected. "Erica _was_ a werewolf from Derek's pack. We used to be friends when we were little. The Alpha Pack killed her last year."

"Damn." She said sadly looking at him, then opened the locker. There were several photos of a blonde girl with Isaac and a black guy. Stiles gasped surprised. "_Damn_." Malia said again. "She was pretty! Hey, isn't that you and Scott?" she asked, ungluing one photo in particular and Stiles reached to take it.

"Oh, my God. I remember this day." He said under his breath, shifting the books to his left arm.

The photo was old, they were about eight. Erica was between Stiles and Scott at the zoo. She had her hair in two braids and all three of them were smiling, the giraffes forming the background. Suddenly, Stiles felt a deep guilty related to that girl. If he hadn't shut her out after his mother death, maybe she wouldn't accept Derek's offer and to not get the bite would mean as well not to die.

"You got Erica's locker!" he heard Scott say excited and Malia nodded. Stiles raised his eyes from the picture.

"Do you remember this day?" he asked, and Scott took the photo from his hand.

"Yes! Holy crap, we were so little! Where did you find it?"

"It was here." Malia pointed the locker's door. She had removed the other photos too.

"Man, I don't even have this photo." He said, a hint of joy in his tone.

"Me neither." Stiles commented. "Her mother was the one who took it."

"Are you gonna keep it?" Scott asked, handing him the photo and Stiles took it again.

"Yes. And give me those too." He asked Malia, who gave him the other photos.

"You guys were good friends with her?"

Scott looked at Stiles and chose his words wisely.

"It's a long story."

"I'll tell you when my arm is not heavy with books and my stomach is not begging for food." Stiles assured and she remembered why she was there in the first place, taking the books from his arms and putting them into the locker.

"Sorry!" she said and he dismissed it.

"Don't worry, I'm very strong." His tone was so serious she had to look at him, a goofy smile on her lips, and agree.

"I _know_."

Stiles held Malia by her waist, pulling her closer and making her laugh.

"Yeah?" he said and she nodded.

"Yeah."

They kissed, but it didn't last long, because Scott cleared his throat interrupting.

"Can you guys stop with the sexual tension and go already?" he pointed to the end of the hall, where Lydia and Kira were waiting for them.

Malia closed her locker and they finally headed to the cafeteria.

-X-

The truth was that they did manage to turn their relationship into more than sex. The time Stiles spent at home recovering from the whole "coming back from the dead" thing he did help her with history and sociology and biology, preparing her flashcards to make sure she wouldn't have trouble studying.

And between those moments, they got to know each other: how Malia loved to bake, how Stiles liked his milk cold with no sugar; how she was good at math, how he didn't liked to admit that biology was interesting, but just couldn't handle open a frog at class; how she loved _The Hunger Games_ trilogy and couldn't get through the first chapters of _Battle Royale_ that he forced her to read; how he smelled so nice, especially when they were just together watching a movie or reading a book and how she loved the way his fingers went through her hair at those times.

She loved that he had this memorial wall on his bedroom, with pictures of the friends he lost, and slowly they realized they were way too similar. The wall was for Stiles what the coyote den was for Malia: somehow a mix of comfort and guilt. They were broken and pretty much needed each other.

Was Stiles whom she ran for when she found the papers of her adoption at her father's house, the papers that made it more close to the true the possibility of Peter Hale be her biological father. Stiles gave her the strength to sit down with Mr. Tate and ask everything about her adoption and was by his side that she learned that Talia Hale was good friends with her mother when Malia was born, and in order to keep the baby safe, they agreed that the memory should be wiped from Peter's mind and not only that. The woman who raised Malia was her guardian under Talia's orders.

All the mystery behind her real parents, however, only made her more curious. Once in a while, she asked someone from the pack information about Peter and the answer was always something about his power hunger and craziness.

But the only time she actually saw his point of view was when he showed up near her house and they had a little chat.

"Is good you have Scott teaching you how to turn. He was quite a mess after I bit him, but he's an alpha now." He told her that day.

"The best alpha, I heard."

Peter shrugged.

"I was the one who bit him." He said angrily, making her frown.

"So what? He became his own alpha and that's a good thing." Malia replied and Peter looked at her, thinking carefully what to say next.

"I still have no memory of you or your mother." He said out of nowhere, changing the subject. "And I'm not sure why my sister thought you'd be safer away from me, but I can make up to it, Malia, to _all_ the years we've been apart. I know Scott is a great kid, but I can teach you _so much more_, kiddo." He reached to touch her face, but she backed away.

"Too soon." She warned and he lowered his hand.

"It's okay, take your time. You know where to find me."

She answered with a small nod and Peter left.

"He told me Derek is fine, you know?" Malia told Stiles later that day, after he ranted about how dangerous it was for her to meet Peter alone and how she should never do that again, but this piece of information made him stop. "He said he and Ethan took Derek and Aiden's bodies from the warehouse and Derek is fine now, but…"

"But what?" Stiles asked curiously, sitting in front of her. She bit her lower lip, nervous.

"Aidan didn't make it."

Stiles sighed and lowered his head, closing his eyes. He would never have a full win, would he?

"They were both badly injured and Marin tried her best," Malia continued. "But Aidan was worse, he was barely alive when they found him, Peter told me."

"And where are they now?" he asked, looking up at her.

"South America with Cora. They don't know if they're gonna come back this time."

And Stiles just nodded, knowing he could do nothing about it.

"Just… don't talk to Peter alone ever again, okay?" he asked, way more calm than before.

"Okay." Malia assured and Stiles went back to bed.

-X-

"You know, there are a group of girls following you." Kira warned Malia one day at lunch.

"I know." She replied, pretending she wasn't seeing Hanna and her group of friends starring her back. "I kind of pissed them of today at P.E."

"Uh, that's not very clever…" the kitsune started, but Lydia waved it off.

"Why, what happened?" the strawberry blonde asked.

Malia shrugged.

"Hanna tried to push me in handball, but she wasn't very successful." She took a bite of her apple.

"Malia, you need to be careful." Scott warned her, worried.

"Look, I don't know how this high school business work, but I know the law of the woods." She said firmly, not a small hint of nervousness in her body. "And in the woods, the strongest survive. Sometimes, to be strong is to be smart. And that a coyote knows."

Lydia smiled.

"I like her." She said, looking at Stiles. "Are we going to keep her?"

"I think I can share, yeah." He replied laughing and kissed Malia's cheek.

Stiles wasn't very sure what was happening between him, Malia and Lydia. During the last year, he felt the development of some sort of friendship with the banshee and the more contact they had, the less he felt the initial passion that took him since third grade. It was like the more they knew each other, the more the feelings changed – and a change for good.

He had no idea how Lydia felt. He didn't know that the last year was a turn for her to a new direction. She used to dislike and avoid Stiles very much, thank you. She used to refuse his help, but since Jackson left, she didn't have much choice but to join this group of outcasts, especially because of Allison. And when she really got closer to them, she realized how alike Stiles and her were. They were the brains of the group. He always knew what to do, even when it took some thinking. And to be up close and see how his mind worked… it was quite fascinating.

It wasn't the cliché story of the popular girl falling in love with the nerd guy. It wasn't. She wouldn't let it be. Lydia Martin wasn't a boy's girl. She used to, but learned to be her own self and going back to this wasn't an option.

When they stood up to leave, Hanna tried to make Malia trip, but Kira pushed her out of the way. The three girls looked at the bully with such seriousness it made the boys step back.

"Get lost, Stone." Lydia warned before the three of them left, making the boys strut behind them.

"That was quite impressive." Stiles said, getting between Lydia and Malia. "You can be like the Powerpuff Girls of Beacon Hills!"

Lydia looked at him, arms crossed.

"What?"

She shook her head and kept going.

-X-

But the thing about girls is: they don't get scared easily. And even though Malia tried to keep it cool, some things were just off limits.

Her personal space, for example. She wouldn't allow and pushing or pulling, even though she was saving her reactions; all the bickering was building a monster inside Malia's chest, the moment she let it out, people better get out of the way.

What was off limits too was Stiles. And Hanna probably realized it, since at the end of Malia's first week, at lunch time, she turned around just to see the group of girls from her class all around Stiles. For a second, she felt the snarl forming, but she breathed slowly one only time, closing her eyes, and everything was calm again. She stepped firmly into Stiles' direction.

"Malia." Scott warned and she looked at him. "Be careful."

"I am careful." She answered. "And I'm totally fine."

And Scott could feel her and know that she was indeed very cool about it. He didn't understand how she could be that calm. She was supposed to be going through a transition, learning how to change and all, and to have this level of control was impressive.

They followed her in time to watch the beginning of the conversation she had with Hanna.

"You're on my spot." Malia said calmly, her tray on one hand.

Hanna was by Stiles right side and he was trying very much to stay cool and respond to the four girls who belonged to the blonde's clique the most polite and objective way so they'd leave ASAP, but they were persistent. The bully looked lazily up to Malia.

"Am I? Don't see your name written anywhere."

Stiles rolled his eyes and Malia actually chuckled. Everyone was around the table, since the girls took all their spots.

"You're so funny, Stone, I almost peed a little." Malia replied, and then added seriously. "Now fuck off."

"Oh, what a dirty mouth!" Lucia laughed and Malia just shot her a look that made her think twice. Lydia, who was behind her, came closer.

"You better mind your business, Lucy." The banshee warned.

"Or what?" Hanna asked, standing.

Scott moved uncomfortable, but Stiles shook his head.

"It's okay, she got this." He said to his friend, not a little bit worried and internally Malia was glad for that bit of faith.

"You don't wanna know what." She answered, putting the tray where Hanna was seconds before.

The next thing happened really fast. Hanna tried to push Malia and drop her things, but the coyote sensed her movements and held the girl's wrist, twisting her arm and pressing it on the girl's back. She held strongly, to make sure Hanna would remember it and talked closer to the girl's ear.

"I don't think you understood. You better stay out of my face, you better play nice and easy, because I'm nice and easy, but I also won't take shit from anybody. And when I say anybody I mean _anybody_. You don't know me, and I don't know which world you live in, but by the rules I lived up you are nothing but a scary little piece of shit. Do you understand?"

Hanna was trying to free from Malia's grip, but the coyote only held tighter.

"Leave her." Stiles said, probably to Scott.

"_Do you understand_?" Malia asked again, and Hanna nodded nervously. "I can't hear you."

"YES! I UNDERSTAND! Fucking let me go!"

"Good."

Malia let go of Hanna's arm pushing her away and finally sitting and ignoring all the eyes on her.

"Now fuck the fuck off." She dismissed the blonde, who stopped rubbing her wrist and quickly grabbed her stuff and left, her friends following her closely. Everyone else sat down too.

"Wow." Kira sighed. "That was some Hale moves you got."

"How could you be so calm?" Scott asked genuinely curious.

"I don't know, it's just something that happens when I focus hard enough."

"Told you she had it covered." Stiles said proudly and Malia punched his arm. "WOA, why did you do that?"

"For letting those suckers sit with you!" she replied.

"You were right behind me and I was kind of trapped!"

"Well, I don't think it's ever going to happen again, don't worry." Lydia said smiling and nodded to Malia. "I like a girl who stands to herself, you go girl."

Happy with herself, the werecoyote smiled back.

"Thank you, Lydia."

* * *

**A/N**: That's it for now. Hope you liked and please review? And if you hated, review as well please?

I'll see you around! x


	6. I fall so hard

**Author's note**: YOU GUYS! I'M BREATHING, BUT I'M BARELY ALIVE!

I can put the reasons in two words: ARCADE FIRE! Best concert I've ever been! I'm serious, they are amazing! I can't even.

But, after two days of Lollapalooza and a couple more trying to recover, I have to say I'm still not 100% and I have the worst flu.

Well, I doubt you are interested in knowing about me, so let's get to business.

I wasn't expecting so many good reviews, I'm serious. You guys are always surprising me, aren't you? Because I had those sad and fluffy chapters and then I was like "let's write some Pissed-Off!Malia even though people will probably hate it" and then, BOOM, good reviews. You never know what to expect huh?

Here's the new chapter. I just finished writing it and I totally threw away my Latin test (I nailed the Greek one, though 8) Greek is so much cooler!). I also threw away any revision, sorry.

**Remember that I don't know english** and please enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter five: I fall so hard**

"_I'm aware I'm a wolf. So is the moon here_."  
Kanye West

At the end of the day, Malia was just fine. She stepped out of school, hands on the stripes of her backpack, and took a deep breath. Only ten minutes earlier, Coach Finstock was telling her she should try for the lacrosse team, because she'd do great and could kick the other boys' butts, even though she never really played lacrosse in her life. She remembered the baseball and soccer games, but never lacrosse.

Other good thing was Hanna and her clique. She seemed to understand the message and now where keeping their distance. There was this day when she was eight, Malia recorded, at school, when she defended this blonde girl who was sick and people were treating her really bad. She had punched one of the girls in the girls locker room after P.E. and got two days of detention. It'd totally worth it.

Her thoughts were cut by Kira, who was running in her direction, holding a piece of paper. The fox stopped in front of her breathing heavily and she took a minute to recover before start talking.

"Hey, Malia! So, I was talking to Scott about taking some self-defense classes and all," she said, not leaving any space for answers. "because really, this is Beacon Hills and we better know a few more tricks, and I was thinking maybe we can join together?" Kira handed her the paper, that was a flyer with information from a gym. "Scott thinks it's too soon for you, but I think you can handle it. What do you think? I'll start tomorrow night."

"Sounds like a great idea, actually." Malia agreed, reading the flyer quickly. "I mean, I could really use some extra training. Some things just creep me out since I turned back."

"Are you able to fully turn already?"

The werecoyote shook her head.

"No." she answered. "But I'm almost there. The next full moon is next week, we'll see what happens."

They heard a honk and looked over to see Mr. Yukimura waiting for Kira. The girls waved for him.

"You're going with your dad today?" Malia asked, then remembered at the same time Kira answered.

"Lacrosse." They said at the same time.

"You want a ride?" the kitsune asked, and Malia shook her head no.

"I'm fine, I think I'm gonna walk home. I feel like exercising a bit."

"Are you sure? We can take you."

"No, it's okay."

Kira smiled and patted Malia's shoulder.

"Okay! Think about that self-defense classes! See you tomorrow, right?"

Before she could answer, Kira already was running down the stairs to her father's car and Malia smiled, folding the paper and putting it on her back pocket, then she started to walk, heading home.

She hadn't go even one block before hearing another honk, but she was pretty sure it wasn't the Yukimura this time. Sure enough, she looked to her left and a blue Ford was slowing down. Lydia.

"Why are you walking?" the girl asked and Malia shrugged.

"Stiles have lacrosse practice, so I have no ride home."

"You can take the bus."

"I don't really like the bus. Too much noise."

The banshee agreed with a nod.

"Well, jump in, I can take you home."

Malia shook her head.

"I was feeling like walking."

"Don't be stupid." Lydia replied. "I feel like giving you a ride home, you better accept it."

At this point, she had stopped already and the two girls looked at each other for a dead minute. Malia knew Lydia for long enough to know everything had a meaning when the banshee "feels it", so maybe she should go along this time, just to see what was going to happen. Nodding, she opened the passenger's door and hoped inside, Lydia started the car right after.

Initially, the girls were silent and Lydia turned on the radio. She was listening to Arcade Fire's last album, even though she liked better the first one, and hummed along the lyric of "_Porno_" hitting the steering wheel with her fingers.

"I was with Aidan" she said abruptly, not looking at Malia "in this very car going to your very house when my banshee instincts kicked and I had to park, I just had to park, and we found Stiles – the Void version of Stiles – at a parking lot, just waiting to be found. It was so scary, because he looked _bad_. He had this cut on his stomach and the dark circles and he was very pale. It was the same day we brought him back, when he detached from the nogitsune. Do you know what made him wake up?"

This last part, Lydia asked looking at Malia, who just shook her head. Stiles never told her anything about that day, because it was too hard for him. The nogitsune did more bad things than good using his body and he didn't like to recount them.

"Your name." Lydia answered, surprising Malia. "For a while I wanted to believe it was my voice, but I knew better. It was when I said _your name_. He forced his way out and well, everything kind of makes sense."

There was a confession hidden in there, Malia noticed. Something she was longing to know since the day Lydia arrived at the hospital looking all worried about Stiles and offering her a moment to rest. It was the moment to ask, the coyote sensed.

"What exactly is going on between you two?" Malia asked. There was no accusation in her tone. She didn't feel threatened and she could handle the answer.

Lydia turned left, avoiding the question for a few more seconds before answering.

"We are friends." She finally said. "I mean, rumor has it he had a crush on me since third grade and he was always trying to get my attention, especially after Scott and Allison started dating and we were forced to spend more time together. Somewhere in the middle of it we've became good friends and I don't think he has much of a _crush_ anymore. I think it's equal now – the way we feel about each other. I mean, sure we kissed a couple of times but he has you now, doesn't he?" she looked at Malia, who nodded. "And I think I'm just fine on my own for a while. So don't worry, I don't want to steal your boyfriend. I'm not looking for a cat fight."

"Well, good." Malia said unsure, trying to think. "Because I really like your company, Lyds."

The banshee smiled and parked in front of Malia's house.

"I like your company too, wild fox. You seem like the right kind of trouble to have around." She said, making Malia laugh and laughing along. It didn't last long, however, because Lydia sensed something and slowly turned her head to the left. "Are you kidding me?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Malia complained, looking in the same direction as Lydia. "He's never going to leave me alone, will he?"

Felling a little guilty, for she was the one who told Peter who his daughter was, Lydia looked over to Malia.

"He's been here before?"

"Almost every day." The werecoyote answered. "Stiles gave me a hell of an earful the other night when I told him I decided to talk to Peter alone."

"Well, that's not very wise." Lydia pondered, making Malia roll her eyes. "What did he want?"

"Just talk. He was the one who told me about Derek and Aidan. He said he has no memory of me, but it's okay, because I have no memory of him either."

Lydia looked over to Peter again, who was watching both girls on the car.

"What did Stiles say to you about talking to Peter?" the banshee asked.

"To not do that alone ever again, and I've been trying to avoid him ever since." Answered the coyote and Lydia nodded.

"Okay. Let's see what he wants." She said, undoing her seat belt. Malia shook her head confused.

"I thought you were scared as shit of Peter!"

Lydia shrugged and leaned to catch something under her seat. She raised a taser that had a blue light when on.

"Yea, a bit. But Allison's dad left me a feel tools before he moved to France, so I think I'll be all right. I think we both will be all right." She pressed the teaser bottom again, making Malia shrink. "Sorry."

"What the hell is that?"

"Just a little something to make bad wolves stay away." Lydia answered, opening her door and exiting the car. Malia did the same.

"This thing is not little." She replied and they waited for Peter to cross the street.

"Ladies." He greeted, and Lydia made sure to keep her wolf taser visible. Peter kept a safe distance. "You both have been avoiding me."

"Never thought you'd notice." Lydia said humorless.

"Don't need to be so acid, Lyds, remember that I created you." Peter turned to Malia. "And you."

"What do you really want, Peter?" Malia asked, shifting from one feet to the other, annoyed.

"I want to get to know my daughter, is that a crime?"

"Well, since aunt Talia felt the need to erase me from your memories, yes, I guess." The werecoyote replied matter of factly.

Peter made a face.

"I'm still working on it." He said. "The memory thing. But I think that, in fact, Talia was afraid of you and what you can do."

"Me?" Malia asked and laughed. "Tell me about bullshit."

"Think about it, kiddo." Peter said, stepping forward but stopping with the sign of Lydia's taser. "If you were so important to me, it's because you're _powerful_. Talia knew how it is to me, other people's power, and for my own daughter to have so much to offer…"

"Are you telling me the only reason you'd be interested in me, in my life, is if I'm powerful? Are you seriously saying this?" she asked, the disbelief clear in her voice.

"No!" he quickly answered. "Sort of. But look at you, Malia! You are all shades of great and I would _love_ to train you. I really want to do that and fill the missing years we couldn't have together."

"Sounding a little desperate, Peter." Lydia commented.

"You kids are too hard on me, you know?" he said casually. "I can help you too be better. I can help you improve. Just try and listen to me."

"We already have an Alpha." Lydia stated and Peter rolled his eyes.

"I wouldn't replace him, just co-work!" both girls exchanged a look.

"I don't think I'm ready for you yet, Peter," Malia said soberly. "and Stiles agrees."

"Is that little pain in the ass your boyfriend?" Peter asked out of the blue and Malia brushed a little.

"He's not a pain in the ass, he's amazing." She replied. "And yes. And I don't think I can do any training with you, Peter. I don't think it's the right moment."

"And we'd appreciate if you stop stalking her." Lydia completed, crossing her arms.

Slowly, he realized that he wouldn't win this time, the girls were too stubborn and were pretty firm in their decision. Peter stepped back.

"Well, Malia, Lydia… you know where to find me."

"And I will." Malia answered. "When the moment is right."

Nodding, Peter turned around, but didn't left before giving them one last cracked smile, as if he knew everything damn well.

The girls finally let go of their breaths and looked at each other.

"You think I did the right thing?" Malia asked Lydia, who nodded.

"I know how you feel and yes. You'll know when he's needed, don't worry."

Malia smiled.

"Thank you, Lyds." She said and looked at the front door of her father's house. "I think I can take it from here."

Lydia nodded.

"You seeing Stiles tonight?" the banshee asked, heading to the driver's door and opening it.

"Probably. I need help with biology." Malia answered and Lydia smiled.

"Yeah, sure. Don't forget the condoms."

They laughed.

"Shut up." The coyote said, and turned to her house.

* * *

**A/N: **This is it, see you next time!

And have yourself some Arcade Fire, they change lives!

Also, I love me some review. Please? :(

x


	7. Such a precious jewel

**Author's note**: Hi guys! I wasn't even going to put some Malia in this chapter, but I was convinced by you. We love us some Stalia.

Guys, I have some ideas for this fic, I hope I can pull it right. More information next chapter, I promise.

I love all the reviews and I see your favorite/follow, it's just amazing (but just imagine if only half of the people who follows this fic reviewed it? it'd be twice as amazing.)

I'm surprisingly out of words today and I really hope you guys like this new chapter, I really liked to write it.

**Friendly reminder that my english sucks**.

And here you go.

* * *

**Chapter six: Such a precious jewel**

"_Afterlife, I think I saw what happens next.  
Oh, it was just a glimpse of you_."  
Arcade Fire

"What do I have to do?" Malia had asked, holding his crosse unsure. He picked a spare crosse and a ball, putting some distance between them.

"You just have to do three things:" Stiles had answered and counted on his fingers "make sure you catch the ball right, make sure you pass the ball right and make sure you run to the right side of the field to score."

She thought for a second, nodding.

"Doesn't sound very challenging."

"Doesn't it?" he echoed and before she could reply, he tossed her the ball. For a second, he thought she'd flinch, but at the last moment, she stretched her arm and missed it from an inch. "Woa!"

"I wasn't prepared!" she complained, looking for the ball and tossing it back. He got it with his crosse easily – and very proudly, if you may wonder.

"At a game, you are never prepared. It took me very long to get good, my sport used to be baseball." Stiles said and tossed the ball again. This time, she got it.

"Why it had to "use to"?" Malia asked. "Why did you have to stop?"

"Because…" he started do answer and caught the ball she tossed. "Because my mom put me in it. I tried to keep on practicing it, but it turned out I wasn't so good without her cheering me up. So I stopped. And when Scott decided to start in lacrosse because of his respiratory problems, I though… _why not_? New sport, new airs."

Malia lowered her crosse, looking at him lovingly. Every time he talks about his mother, she's surprised. Claudia Stilinski was a fragile subject at the Stilinski house, and to know that Stiles trusted her enough to share bits of his mother with her, she was flattered. Quickly, he tossed the ball again, making her squeal before catching it.

"I played baseball too, when I was little. But I liked soccer better. It's more violent."

"You should try handball, then." Stiles said, then thought better. "No, you're too strong, it wouldn't be a good idea."

She gave him the tongue right in the moment Coach Finstock was heading towards them. Well, to _her_.

"I know I told you to try for the track team," he started, pointing to the werecoyote "but I was watching you play and maybe you should try for the lacrosse team."

"But there's no female lacrosse team." Stiles interrupted, getting closer.

"She can try to the boys' team, Stilinski." Coach answered annoyed without looking at him and continued before Stiles could say anything else. "How many times did you play?"

"Hm…" Malia replied, wondering if she should lie or not. "None. I played baseball when I was little."

"Good, you pick up quickly. You can make that bunch of monkeys run for their money."

"HEY!" Stiles protested and Malia laughed.

"I don't know, Coach, I'm gonna think about it." Was her answer and he nodded.

"Great. Now get out of the field, we have practice." He demanded and she shook her head one time.

"Sir, yes, sir." Malia said, handing the crosse to Stiles.

He held her wrist, pulling her closer and kissed her lightly on the lips, making her smile.

"Are you gonna wait?" Stiles asked.

"No, I think I'm gonna go home, I'm tired."

"You are never tired." And she gave him that look that usually came with his first name. "Okay!" he added quickly.

"I have to study."

"Okay, I get it."

She smiled and reached for his face, cupping his cheeks and pulling him for another kiss, this time deeper.

"Can I get you at nine?" he asked and she nodded. "Good." And kissed her one more time, before letting her go. "Careful with the big bad wolf!"

"Shut up." Malia replied, laughing, and jogged out of the field, before Coach could say anything else.

"When did you became a thing with such girl again?" Coach asked Stiles, suddenly beside him.

Stiles shrugged.

"At a nut house." He answered and the Coach looked at him, nodding.

"Makes sense." He commented and turned around, blowing his whistle to call everyone.

-X-

After a good practice, Stiles was ready to go home, finish his homework and then head to Malia's, but ever since a werewolf bit his best friend, all his plans seemed to be useless - at least most of the times.

The moment he stepped outside, he saw the familiar blue Ford of Lydia parked right next to his jeep, and the banshee was waiting outside, a Cornetto in her hand. The sun was shining down, turning her hair a couple of shades lighter and making her look almost ethereal. When Lydia saw Stiles, she smiled her dimpled beautiful smile and his heart skipped a bit, as it used to do when it was about Lydia's smiles.

"Hey." She greeted and he waved, coming closer.

"Hey, Lyds."

"I got you a Cornetto." She said, reaching inside the car through the open window and then handing him the cone. Fully chocolate, his favorite.

"Thank you!" he said excited.

"Don't get to happy, I got you something nice because I have news." Lydia said, trying to sound serious, but her eyes betrayed her, as she looked at Stiles unwrap his cone and give the first bite eagerly.

"Bad news?" he asked, his mouth full of ice cream.

"Sort of, I don't know. Maybe."

"Well, spill it out, then."

Lydia shrugged.

"I gave your girlfriend a ride today." She said and he looked at her, waiting for the explanation of why it could be bad. "I wasn't going to, but I had this feeling, you know?"

Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah, I know."

"She asked what's going on between you and me."

"Did she?" he asked, surprised, and leaned on his Jeep. Lydia nodded.

"Yep."

Stiles thought long and hard why Malia would ask something like that now, what would make her have such doubt.

"Don't you get it?" Lydia asked and he just shook his head. "She sounded casual, as if she was just curious, but I don't know, I think there's more."

"Like what? We've been together for almost two months." He wondered aloud.

"Really, Stiles? Can't you think about a couple of things that would trigger her?" and because she had no answer from him, she continued. "I have a few ideas. For once, we have history."

With the mention of this word, Stiles raised his eyes back to Lydia, frowning. He didn't know he and Lydia had _history_. Or, better saying, he _did_ know, but he didn't know _Lydia_ knew it as well.

"So what?" he finally said. "It's not as if we were a couple or something."

"I know. But think about it, that's when I get to point two: she spent half of her life in the woods as an animal. Last time she was human, she was just a child. To grow up with the conscience of both human and coyote must have been very confusing and I think she doesn't know what to do about you. I think she's terribly afraid of losing you, because she's afraid of screwing things up, for she doesn't really know how to do this relationship thing."

"Well, I'm not leaving her." Stiles said firmly. "We promised to help each other and that's what we're gonna do, it's what we do already. She's not going to scare me off easily."

Lydia shook her head in approval, chewing the last bit of her ice cream.

"So make sure she knows that." She said, after she swallowed.

"Okay, I will." He assured. "So? What did you said to her when she asked?"

Lydia looked away for a moment, bit the inside of her cheek and her dimple appeared again.

"I told her we kissed a couple of times and that we are friends now. Nothing else." She said and Stiles nodded. "So… now she knows. And you must be prepared, because she probably will ask why you didn't tell her about it."

"Why?"

"Because" Lydia said sighing, as if it was obvious "that's what women do."

He rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I'll be prepared." Stiles said, and then shrugged it off. "That's it?"

"No." she answered. "I gave her a ride because I had this feeling? And when we got to her house, Peter was there." Lydia paused, to let the information sink in. "She told me what you said, about her never talk to him alone again, and also that he's been following her around every other day. He's very interested in her and you can tell she's curious. No, listen." She cut, when Stiles threatened to interrupt her. "I don't know for how long she can avoid him, he's her father. And just like he did with me, I really think he can help her. She's just not ready yet, but any moment she'll be."

"I know. I just want her not to be alone with him." Stiles confessed, scratching his neck nervously.

"You're her boyfriend." Lydia said. "Of course you're worried. Let her know that you'll be by her side, whatever happens. That's what she needs."

Stiles nodded, knowing the she was right. She was always right.

"I'll do that." He assured. "Thank you, Lyds."

She nodded and patted his shoulder. With a hand wave, they said their goodbyes and Stiles finally entered into his jeep, starting the car to go home.

He only had to make a few turns when his plans changed again. On a corner halfway to his house, there was someone who looked familiar, a girl. Slowing down, he quickly realized who she was, and it seemed that she was just waiting for him, because as soon as he got closer, she signed for him to pull over.

Since Stiles knew that she could be some pain in the ass, he did as she said, stopping right in front of her and getting out of the car.

"You took your time." She said and he nodded.

"Hello to you too, Ms. Morrell." He replied. "And yes. Were you waiting for too long?"

Marin Morrell shrugged.

"Maybe."

Stiles smiled mockingly.

"Well, I must be some important fella, then."

"Don't make jokes, you're not good at it." And he immediately stopped with the silly laugh.

"Always so nice." He mumbled, and she pretended she didn't hear him.

"How's your life now, Stiles?" Marin asked. "It's been what? Two months now, since your divine move?" taken aback, Stiles just nodded, confirming. "How have you been feeling? Any nightmares?"

Stiles was quiet for a moment. The nogitsune was gone, but the nightmares were happening before the whole fox spirit thing; and it didn't go away so quickly. Memories of him waking up covered in sweat, tangled on his sheets, waking up Malia filled his brain.

"Yes. Sometimes." He answered, because it was least frequent than before, but it was still there. Sometimes it was related to the supernatural, sometimes it was just a random dream, but still. Marin just nodded.

"You know why do you still have them?"

"Because of the sacrifice." He answered quickly and Ms. Morrell confirmed.

"Yes, because of the sacrifice you and your friends did at the lunar eclipse. It'll get weaker, but it'll never go away, just like the darkness in your heart."

Stiles made a face.

"No tell me something I don't know." He said, irritated and she narrowed her eyes.

"I will." Marin replied, more calm then he'd expect. "Do you have any idea why the nogitsune chose _you_?" she asked and Stiles looked confused.

"Because it was convenient?" he answered questioningly. The time being possessed wasn't his favorite subject to a normal conversation, but since it was Marin, he wasn't very surprised.

"Convenient in which ways?"

"I don't know, because I was closer and I was the only human around? I mean, that's how we were able to kill it, because it can't be two things at the same time."

"Yea, it wouldn't go to _Scott_, but what about Kira? She's a fox too. It'd fit just fine in her."

She had a bit of a point, but not a very convincing one.

"Also," she continued, "her mother was the one who called on the spirit. Wouldn't it be just the kind of joke a nogitsune would like to make?"

"Maybe, I guess." He shrugged. It was a better argument, he knew because he had the nogitsune's mind in his for quite a long time. "But it chose me, so what's the big deal?"

"How's your little coyote girlfriend?" she suddenly asked, not answering his question.

"Fine."

"Did she learn how to turn back and forth already?"

"To full coyote form?" he answered. "Not yet. But she's learned some pretty cool stuff and can turn like the other wolves. We'll see her real progress the next full moon."

"I see…" she commented, her posture changing so something between relaxed and alert. "Have you noticed anything strange about her?"

For that one, he had to think for a bit longer, trying to sum up the memories of the past couple of months.

"I don't know. Last month, she turned like Scott, with him helping her and all, but she got really frustrated she wasn't able to fully turn. I thought she'd get real mad, but the moment we met, by the morning, all I saw was that little frustration of hers. Scott is surprised _and worried_ that she seems always unbelievable calm about things, even in stressful situations, like when those girls were bullying her. I think it's fascinating, even though no one knows how she does that. It's like she's got this really effective anchor, but she doesn't know what it is either."

Marin just nodded all along his speech.

"No one has a clue what's going on with her?" she asked again.

"Nope. Even though it's pretty awesome."

Finally, she kind of smiled. Or, at least, Stiles liked to think she was almost smiling. He couldn't know for sure, she was always so serious and hard to read.

"Did you know that no one was able to completely shift to animal form? It demands some real power and control, and the last person we met that could do such thing was _Talia Hale_."

Stiles swallowed.

"I heard something about it."

"When Malia first turned, years ago, she wasn't supposed to go straight to animal form; do you remember Scott's first full moon?" Stiles nodded. "She would normally coyote up, but it went further. No wonder she almost went crazy and kept on its form for so long, she had no training."

"Where do you want to go with it?" he asked, a little afraid of her point.

"I'm telling you that things look very connected to me." Was her answer. "Why would Talia whip the kid from Peter's memories – besides the fact we already know, that he's quite the sociopath? Why is this girl so important she had to be hidden?" she stepped closer, looking into his eyes. "And what are you, Stiles? Not just a normal human being, I'm sure. I know for a fact that your sacrifice to find your father triggered something inside you that made you valuable even to the dark fox. Something, I think, that has to do with Malia's unnatural control."

"What does that mean?" Stiles asked, suddenly out of breath, stepping away from Marin. She continued stepping further.

"I have many theories, but I don't have all the answers, even though I know who might have."

"Well… who then?" he asked, feeling the metal of his jeep on his back.

"My brother." Morrell said casually. "He was Talia's emissary for a start. He might know Malia's full story. Add it to your list of questions, I know you've been taking your time to visit Alan."

Stiles swallowed, feeling more nervous than he thought he should be. It was Marin's effect in him, because she was so damn intense, always with that candy voice of hers.

"Now, I'm in need of a chat with my big brother too, Stiles, for I have a few things to talk. Mostly about you. I feel like he knows things, things that I _think_ I know. And I don't like to have doubts, you see? So yeah, you definitely should talk to him too, because I know you are the type who doesn't like to have doubts either."

He nodded, agreeing.

"But how could everything be connected?" he asked, the moment Marin turned around.

"You'll see." She said, turning her head to look at him, now a real smiling forcing its way on her lips. "I'm glad we didn't need to put you under, Stiles. There's so many things you can be useful now."

And with a very confused Stiles standing on the sidewalk of that corner, Marin turned back and followed her path in the next street, disappearing from view.

* * *

**A/N**: That's it. Do you guys miss Deaton? I miss Deaton. I think we deserve some Deaton in our lives.

Please review, it's very important to me.

x


	8. A wolf's call

**Author's note**: Hello guys, look who's here! The new chapter!

So, it looks like I gave up use music lyrics to title the chapters. It's true. I don't know how it's gonna be now on, but I don't think people really care.

I'm sorry it took longer to update, I traveled during the Easter break and it was hard to write everything. Do you know that I have a new fic? Stalia, yes. I like to say it's "The Scars on Our Hearts (extended version)" hehe. It's called "**Wait until it's over**" and it's _The scar on our hearts_ extended - and updated - version. It's cool to write, the chapters are short and adorable (in my opinion. I don't know about other people's, I get so few reviews. Doesn't mean I'll stop writing though.)

Also, this chapter. It was supposed to have more things and be longer, but you know what? Not today.

It has some ~hot and sexual~ scenes, you might want to send the kids to bed, I'm warning you.

I liked to write it and I also looked some Celtic mythology, I got really excited. There's so many things that can be explored and it's amazing. Did you know that Lydia's animal is the bear? Did you know that? So cool! I need to find some poetry about it.

Anyway, I'll leave you to the chapter, that's what matters.

**I'm sorry for my english** and I hope you like it - and review it!

* * *

**Chapter seven: A wolf's call**

"_I found the weakness and put it to play  
Swore upon the stars I'd keep you 'til a nightless day.  
(…) Goodness gracious, I can't seem to stop  
calling you up just to keep crawling to your arms._"  
Ellie Goulding

They spent the night before the full moon – their third night before the full moon together – watching videos of Malia's childhood. She pointed here and there moments she remembered and Stiles got to know a few precious things about her.

His favorite: Malia was a prankster. She had been since she was little, and not the kind of prank any kid could do: she was one of the smartest pranksters Stiles had ever knew, even as good as he was. The devilish kind, his father used to say. There was this one time when she was five that she convinced her younger sister – who was only three at the time - that the most comfortable sleeping place was the TV room's cabinet; she watched for about half an hour her parents looking for the youngest Tate desperately, until she decided it was time to tell them she knew where her baby sister was.

It _was_ devilish. But it was also genius. If Stiles had a younger sibling, he sure as hell would pull out something like that.

Because there was this time when he was seven that he convinced the whole class that they should talk really low around Scott, so he'd think something was wrong with his hearing. It lasted about three days, and Scott was convinced that he had selective hearing, since the only thing he could hear properly was the teacher and his mother.

"We are quite a match." Malia said, after they shared a few more stories, and Stiles had to agree.

"People better get on our good side, I guess." He replied and she nodded, agreeing.

-X-

It said a lot about her turning into a coyote instead of a wolf. Like Jackson was a lizard, right? Personality. You didn't need to be a genius to figure that out.

Her self-control that was the scariest. Stiles had a few theories himself – the best one being she lived for so long in animal form, it became easy to understand its instincts.

"After surviving in the woods" she once told him "it's easier to understand humans and their whys and dos. Not even math can be that hard anymore."

It almost made him want to experience being a shifter, but he knew better. Some people weren't born to it and besides, he could experience the shift through Malia. Not like, seeing it in her eyes, but to mentor her was different than what he did with Scott. More _delightful_, he could say.

"Good morning." He greeted a very sleepy Malia after he turned off the alarm. She smiled.

"Morning." Stiles kissed her and she suddenly was very conscious of his erection and his hands on her hips. Untangling from him, she playfully looked under the sheets. "Watcha gonna do about it?"

He shrugged and pulled her closer, his lips in hers.

"I might or might not have a couple of ideas; what do you think?"

It was quite an unfair question, since his fingers were playing between her tights and she couldn't formulate any reasonable thought. Removing the remaining clothes they were so proud of being able to keep on the night before, Stiles rolled on top of Malia, kissing her. She numbly reached for the box of condoms at the head of his bed, dropping it, the square little packages raining on them, making them laugh.

He fished one of the condoms and put it on in record time, placing himself between her very inviting legs. There was the breathing and the moaning and her nails digging his skin and Malia wasn't ashamed of touching him and he loved, loved, _loved_ her touch, for she was dedicated to him the way he was dedicated to her. And she whispered his name with such passion it made Stiles committed to that girl and that girl only.

And there were the kisses and the heat and the _Oh God_s and his orgasm happened at the same time of one of hers and he saw her eyes flashing its blue coyote color.

"Holy shit!" Stiles exclaimed, amazed and Malia was smiling, her eyes – back to its dark brown – were shining.

"That was…" she started, breathing heavily. "_fucking amazing_."

He got off her and lay on his back by her side, breathing equally heavy. They both stood there, looking at the ceiling.

"It fucking was." He agreed.

After almost a whole minute of silence, both of them recovering, Stiles looked at Malia. It took a few seconds for her to look back.

"Did you get to finish?" he asked and she shrugged, mouth pouted and shook her head.

"Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"Meh. Not totally."

Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"It's fine." Malia added and he shook his head no.

"It's not fine when it can be great." He said in her lips, before he kissed her and started making his way down, marking it with his mouth and tongue. He spent some precious minutes in her breasts, teasing her over the fabric of her bra.

"How long do we have?" she asked under her breath, her fingers tangled in his hair. Stiles looked at the clock.

"Enough." He answered, and continued going down. He knew the way to her cherry very well and it was a path he liked damn much shamelessly.

As soon as she felt his lips in her, the warmth spread through her body. That boy… he had a magic tongue. What was his supernatural power again? Oh, yeah, Sex God. Not that she knew much, but the things she and Stiles learned together…

A hot shiver went through her spine and she felt the urge to throw away the sheets that covered them, for they were way too warm. But she couldn't control her body; she felt weak and at the same time strong, low moans raising from within and getting out through her parted lips, hands clutching the sheets so fiercely she could rip it any moment. Her lungs were betraying her and right when she gasped for air, the door opened.

Sheriff Stilinski looked from Malia's out of breath figure on his son's bed and quickly realized, without needing to verbalize anything, where Stiles was. He optioned to say nothing about it.

"You two have class today." He said and the werecoyote nodded. "Good morning, Malia, didn't know you were here. I'm leaving for work, Stiles, don't forget to lock the door."

"I won't!" he answered, his voice muffled, because of all the layers of fabric he was under.

The Sheriff turned to leave, but he had one last thing to say.

"You know, you're too damn quiet. If you made some noise I'd know it's better to keep the door closed."

He left, doing just it and not seeing Malia's nod. She moved her head to see the time and right when she registered that they still had twenty minutes or so to finish, eat and take a shower – not exactly in this order -, Stiles went back to business, pulling the last string of sanity from her body.

Stiles had gone down on her before, probably more times than she had gone down on him; and he did drive her to cosmic orgasms, but that morning was the morning of full moon and she couldn't be more sensitive or he more in point. It was hard to tell who had the timing right. And it didn't take two minutes for her to feel the craziest rush of pleasure and adrenalin run through her veins. Her eyes were blue, for she could see as a coyote and Stiles sat down, throwing the sheets on the floor.

"Holy shit, you never did that before!"

She had never _felt_ like that before. She could barely talk, but she saw the liquid dripping from his chin down his chest.

"It was the orgasmic-est orgasm ever." He continued, completely amazed. "Fuck, that was awesome."

Malia just lay there, breathing heavily and looking at him, and with his words, she laughed. It _was_ awesome. God, it was _beyond_ awesome.

"Why aren't you talking? You're a talker, are you okay?"

She just smiled and nodded.

"Come here, Stiles." Malia called, and he lay on top of her. Before putting her mouth in his, she whipped the remaining of her liquid from his chin with her hand. "You are amazing." She said and they kissed long and deeply.

"Wanna go take a shower first?" he asked, a few minutes later and she shook her head.

"Go ahead, I'm right behind you." She watched his naked figure walk to the bathroom, removing the condom on the way, and wondered if she had enough strength in her legs to stand.

A hella rad way to start the day of the full moon, and it wasn't even eight in the morning.

-X-

"We are going to Deaton's clinic." Malia told Scott when they were at the school's parking lot after class. "I feel different today."

"Different how?" Scott asked. Over the last three months, Malia proved to be a quick learner and very good at controlling her anger – the anger, she told, that was the reason she was put in Eichen House in the first place.

"I don't know." She frowned, thinking hard. "It started this morning, after th-" and suddenly she was blushed, something that made Scott laugh.

"Okay, I don't need to know." He said, patting her shoulder.

"Is that weird?"

"Actually, no." Scott assured her. "It just proves that he's your anchor. You can hold on to Stiles and he'll keep your feet on the ground."

"I suppose, yes." Malia responded distant, looking around until she found Stiles and Lydia sitting side by side at the flowerbed. Stiles was saying something, but Lydia was very focused on write something in his pulse with the same black pen Malia was a victim before. "Did you notice that Lyds is all draftsman today?"

Scott raised an eyebrow and lifted his left arm, showing the draw in his pulse. Malia did the same, showing hers. They had different drawings, a pattern of lines that meant nothing to them, but probably did to the banshee.

"I did. She's doing it to everyone, including Danny."

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know." Scott answered. "But today is full moon and we better trust the banshee, I guess."

"Probably."

They stood there, in silence, for almost a whole minute, enough time to Kira to arrive.

"Hey guys, did you get cool tattoos from Lydia?" she said excitedly, showing her wrist. Her draw was different too.

"Yes." They said at the same time.

"Do you even know what it means?" they heard Stiles say probably too loud and looked at them.

Lydia shrugged.

"Maybe."

The boy looked at her very seriously for a dead moment.

"Is something going to happen today?"

"I'm not sure." She said, and looked over to where Scott, Malia and Kira were standing. She knew they could use their super hearing to know what she was saying. "We can use some extra protection, in my opinion."

That was the thing about Lydia. She was strong and fierce, she knew the things she wanted. But when it came to her magic, she still got terrified, for she didn't know the things she could do. To be a banshee was to have voices in her head, and she knew very well that the voices could trick her.

"Okay, fine." Stiles agreed, and looked at his pulse. "What do these mean?"

She said nothing until he looked in her eyes.

"Deaton will tell you."

He waited one more moment, before he realized that was all the girl would tell him.

"Fair." He said, and stood up, offering a hand to help the girl to stand up too and they walked to his car.

"Should we be worried?" Scott asked Lydia.

"No." she answered. "But maybe you should be with them when she changes." The banshee pointed Stiles and Malia. Scott just nodded. He'd be there, only not immediately. The couple needed a time alone with Beacon Hills' vet.

Stiles took photos of his friends' drawings before hopping in the car with Malia. He knew that Deaton could know the meaning of every single one of those symbols.

"What did she draw in you?" Malia asked when they followed the line of cars heading out of the parking lot and Scott showed her.

Lydia had taken time and effort to make his symbols. Not just one, like everyone else – a simple Celtic symbol with some somber meaning -, but two; one of them a Celtic tree, with knots around forming a circle. The drawing spread ink for most of the skin in his pulse and next to it was the little symbol similar to everyone else's.

"Woa, that's very elaborated." Malia commented, tracing the lines lightly, afraid of screwing the paint. "I saw she took longer do make yours and was wondering why."

The line moved along a few meters and Malia changed position in her seat, bothered.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked a bit worried.

"I always have this bad feeling when the full moon is hours away and I'm on a car." She answered and he took her hand kindly. She looked at him.

"Just remember that you're way more experienced now and that _everything will be fine_."

"How can you possibly know?" she said, the nervousness clear in her voice and he just caressed her wrist right where Lydia had drawn the symbol.

"I trust Lydia and I trust you. Relax, okay? We'll be at the clinic in ten minutes."

Taking a few deep breaths, Malia nodded at the exactly moment the line of cars cleared and Stiles could turn and ride away. She felt calmer already.

"How is it?" he suddenly asked. "The feeling when the sun is coming down and the moon is about to show up?"

She looked at him for an instant, thinking how she'd put it in words.

"Right now, I feel all weird. I mean, I'm myself, but it's like I have a beast trying to reach the surface. It happened the other times too, but today I feel ready; I think I'm gonna make it to coyote form. I didn't feel that confident before, you know?"

He just nodded, looking to the road, and bit his lower lip.

"Marin says that's a big deal – your animal form." Stiles said, sounding calmer than he actually was about it. Sometimes he wondered if he couldn't have a girl who'd be simple, but then, what'd be the fun of it? "Do you have any idea why?"

"I told you already," she said, looking away. "I don't know. She told me that too, you know? Marin. She's been on my heels since Echo House and she's a real pain in the ass."

"Tell me about it." He replied, and they exchanged a look, smiling.

"Anyway, I think we can find out today, huh?" Malia added, assuming a more relaxed position in the passenger's seat. Stiles looked at his wrist all painted in black ink.

"I hope so."

And just after the next corner they saw the vet clinic.

* * *

**A/N**: I KNOW, NOW THAT THINGS WERE ABOUT TO HAPPEN, I'M SORRY. I'll try to write and post ASAP, okay?

Thank you for reading. If a quarter of the number of people who follows this fic reviewed it, I think I'd cry.

See you! x


	9. Sacred

**Author's note**: YOU GUYS! It's late and I have classes tomorrow, so be happy because you have a new chapter and a small note from me.

I'm sorry if my english is bad. :(

And I hope you like the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter eight: Sacred**

"_That slow burn wait while it gets dark, bruising the sun.  
I feel grown up with you in your car, I know it's dumb_."  
Lorde

There was a place in the woods Malia liked almost more than her den. It was near a stream with lots of mood and a permanent smell of fresh grass. It had a huge alder tree that was always so beautiful on the spring and summer days.

The first time she went there was the day of the accident. She was running from what happened, scared and guilty, trying to find a consolation she knew she didn't deserve nor would ease her pain. Struggling to walk on her animal paws, she stumbled until the moment she found the clearing. It was so beautiful, the full moon enlightening the tall grass and the dandelions moving to the breeze and that marvelous tree, she could swear to God she could see fairies all around it.

The glade was a glade because of a fallen tree. She couldn't say what was it, but it had fallen for long enough to a bunch of ivy to grow on its trunk.

Tired, amazed and unable to cry, she closed the few meters to the alder tree, curled on its roots and slept for two days, wrapped by the mix of nature smell that became so familiar to her as time passed by.

That was the smell that hit her when she entered in the clinic. She couldn't tell if it was the place's scent or just her coyote-self getting ready to go back.

To go back was something she avoided to think since Stiles entered for real in her life. Her goal, since being forced to human form months before, was to turn into a coyote again and run away forever. But since she met the Sheriff's son and his friends, she _knew_ it wouldn't be so easy. Her family history was a mess and now that she was buried to the chest in it, it wouldn't matter how fast or far she could run: they would find her. _Peter_ would find her.

"What do you want to know?" Deaton said, finally sitting with Stiles and Malia, and snapping the girl out of her thoughts.

"How about… with Malia's family?" Stiles suggested. The vet nodded, and she moved in her seat.

"Okay. Where do you want me to start?" he asked, but the teenagers just looked at him, like they were waiting for him to simply start, not caring where. He nodded again. "Right. First of all, Malia, you were raised by Peter until you were almost two years old. Talia always had an eye on you, because the Hale family always had a big deal about its women. Technically, Laura was supposed to take over her mother's legacy, but you and Cora were being watched too, and so were all the females of your family that died at the fire a few years ago."

"Was my real mother there too?" Malia asked, her voice was uncommonly weak. They only had two hours until the sun come down. Deaton shook his head.

"No. your mother was human, but you've got to understand that when your aunt decided to take you to Fae, she had to do the whole job. She wiped the memory from almost everyone related to the Hale, only a few people knew fragments of the whole and I'm the only one who lived to tell the story."

"Derek has no memory of Malia?" Stiles asked surprised.

"No. Nor Cora. It was easier to clean the memory of the little ones. Laura was the one who knew who your mother is, Malia. I don't." the Doc looked at her sadly. "Not anymore. Sorry."

She wasn't very interested in it anyway; the mention of her mother's name – Fae – brought numerous memories of her childhood, memories she'd ratter forget.

"It's fine." Malia answered.

"But why did she have to give Malia to someone else in the first place?" Stiles asked, eager to know more.

"Well," the Doc started. "I don't remember what happened exactly, but Malia did something. Among all the Hale kids she could do something related to authority. She was only two." He looked at Malia, said more fiercely. "_You were only two_ and it shone like diamonds. Peter flipped. He wanted you to be trained to be the next alpha under his commands, he wanted to take Talia and her daughters out of the family tree, so he'd rule with _his_ daughter."

The teenagers swallowed, taken aback. Stiles knew Peter was crazy, no one need to tell him again. But to be that power hungry… he had never been so sure he'd have to let Malia as far from her father as possible.

"You've got to understand that it wasn't in Talia's plans." Now Deaton as talking directly to Malia. "The Hale were traditional and she intended on raising you with the rest of the family, and when you were ready, Laura would give you the place you belong. It was the natural path to follow, but Peter ruined it. So she talked to me and to her friend Fae, who was pregnant at the time with the baby you knew as your sister. We all agreed that a fairy would be the best option to you: she'd be able to raise you normal and supernatural and to answer your questions and be there for you. But Fae was no banshee and she couldn't sense that you'd turn so young. We were expecting it to happen around year eleven, that's the average. But you are nothing average, are you?"

It made her smile and eased the tension on her shoulders.

"Hold on a sec," Stiles interrupted. "Her adoptive mother was a fairy? And her name was _Fae_?"

"Nickname." Malia answered. "But it makes sense to me now."

"And what about her father? Tate?" he asked. "He did that weird thing with the dog when Scott and I broke into her house to find her scent."

"He's something else." Was the only answer from Deaton.

"But if he knew about the supernatural, why did he try to kill Malia?"

"Well, he was expecting a werewolf, not a werecoyote, firstly." The Doc said, as if it was obvious. "And his wife and younger daughter had the coyote bites in their bodies, so he was very mad at that creature. Wouldn't you?"

They were silent for a moment, trying to internally decide if they'd do the same.

"I did bite them." Malia said suddenly. "I tried to help them, take them out of the car. But the blood made me dizzy and at some moment I just gave away and ran. I didn't think I was doing something good after all. My dad always said I was too smart, too ahead for my own good. I figure I'd use my super-brain to do something wise for once and I ran."

"Talia tried to find you. She tried for days." Deaton assured. "Every full moon of her short life after the car accident, she'd howl on the hopes of finding her niece, but you were sneaky, so smart. Coyote, not wolf." He smiled. "Lonely, but wise, indeed. Noble, even, like Kira's kitsune."

"We have a fox, we have a coyote." Stiles commented, sitting more relaxed on his chair. "I wonder when we'll find a raven."

Deaton shook his head.

"You don't want to find a raven." He said, and Stiles stood straighter to argument, but the Doc's eyes were on Malia. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know." She answered, a hand on her stomach. "This full moon business is a lot of work."

"I wonder." He said and stood up, looking for something in one of his shelves. He came back with a glass full of green leaves and handed it to the girl. "Chew one of them, it'll ease your nerves."

"Thanks." She replied, taking the glass, opening and fishing one of the leaves. It smelled like mint. "What is it?"

"Mint."

"I thought so." Malia said nodding, and put the small leaf in her mouth.

"You know," Deaton continued. "Talia wasn't the only one who could change to full animal form; Laura could do it too. But she had to be taught and it took years for her to master it. But you did it in your first time without training. No wonder Talia wanted to hide you. If Peter could put his hands on you and _mold you_, _I_ would've been out of this town in a long time already."

They laughed nervously. Malia knew that from Stiles and his friends all the stories about her biological father. She could sense in him something bad. And she couldn't help but want to know him. But now Deaton was really freaking her out. Could someone be that nasty?

"What else do you want to know?" asked the Doc and Stiles fished his phone from his pocket, quickly going to the photos folder.

"Yeah, of course!" he came over to where Deaton was sitting. "So, Lydia was all weird and mysterious today; she decided to make these weird drawings on everyone she could put her hands in. Actually, only people we knew were involved with the supernatural somehow. This is Danny's…"

They heard the sound of wheels outside and Malia announced that Scott had arrived. Deaton took the phone from Stiles' hands, looking picture by picture.

"Lydia did this?" he asked, getting up again and started to walk around, just looking at the pictures, trying to figure out what the banshee wanted with it.

"Yes." Malia was the one to answer. "Do you know what they mean? Is it something bad?"

"Not really."

"Which part?" Stiles asked, the moment Scott entered in the room.

"You showing the drawings already?" he asked. "Did I miss something important."

"Did you know that there's fresh mint in here?" Malia said, putting the open glass under Scott's nose. He flinched.

"Gosh, I hate mint." He said, at the same time Stiles told her "He hates mint."

"You must be a really sad person, then." She said, one hand on his shoulder. They looked at each other for a moment, Malia smiling, and Scott rolled his eyes.

"Guys? Focus." Stiles exclaimed. "We have less than an hour 'til the moon and we also have a paranoid banshee."

"More like overprotective banshee." Deaton corrected. "Danny's actually means protection, protective biding. And who's this one?" he asked, showing the picture, and Scott raised his left arm, showing the drawing. "It's meant for you to see the path clearly." Scott frowned, but had no time to say something, because the Doc continued. "This is Kira's, right? It means time. And the last is Lydia's – draw on her right hand, because she's left-handed. It means to lock."

"And together… do they mean something?" Stiles asked anxious.

"These are Celtic symbols, they _always_ mean something." The vet answered. "Let me see yours."

Both Stiles and Malia extended their left arm, showing the drawings. Deaton's eyes were a little surprised when he saw Stiles', so he decided to take a look at Malia's first. He knew that symbol many times, drew it many times in the Hale children when they first started to change.

"It's divinely guided transformation." He said and let go of her hand to hold Stiles'. "Which explains yours." He pointed the small symbol, a pattern of lines very simple, maybe simpler than everyone else's. "You've got the divine pattern."

Stiles sighed.

"You know, I'm done with the divine stuff since thanksgiving." The boy complained.

"There's nothing you can do about it." Deaton said casually. "Fate is a bitch. You try to run from it, it comes right in your heels and bites you in the ass."

"Okay." Stiles agreed. "I've never seen you talking like this, so I guess I need to take you serious."

"Stiles." Malia warned.

"He just sounded very ghetto, that's all."

"_Stiles_." She warned again, and he looked at Deaton's serious face.

"All right. So I have to do something to help Malia's transformation?"

"In this case, I think you already had." Deaton said, looking at Malia. "She's different."

"You can tell by _looking_ at her?" Scott asked amazed.

"And why does Stiles has to do something to _help me_?" Malia asked, a bit annoyed and offended. She was no damsel in distress, she could handle things on her own.

"Because he's your anchor." The vet answered matter of factly. "And because he can lead you in your transformation."

"How could I possibly do that?" Stiles asked, more surprised than anyone else.

"You've been doing it already without even knowing how." Deaton told him. "You did it the very first time you were together. Malia felt the change, didn't you?" the girl just shook her head positively. "You equalize her naturally and today you both did something – I don't know and I don't _want_ to know what – that filled her with energy, she can do anything. Don't you feel so, Malia?"

A little blushed, she nodded.

"I kind of feel that way, yes."

"And that's why you are here today, isn't it?" Deaton asked Stiles, who hadn't got back to his natural color, his cheeks still blushed. "When is your birthday?

"April eight."

"Are you familiar with Celtic astrology, Stiles?"

"No." he answered quickly. "Should I?" and after a dead stare from the vet, he nodded. "I should. Okay, fine. Great."

"Do you know which tree is the one Lydia drew in your pulse?" Stiles just shook his head no. "It's an Alder tree, the Celtic version of it. The alder tree is your tree, according to their calendar."

"So what?" he asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

"I've kept an eye on you, Stiles, and I know my sister did the same. Druids can come from family, but it's, more than anything, a religion. You can become an emissary; and I think we all knew you already were one."

None of his words made sense to the boy, whose brain stopped at the word "Druid".

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that maybe I was sort of training you for the last couple of years and I think you are natural. You are one of us and you have so much to learn. I can teach you the bigger part, but you should have self-defense classes and all. It's not easy to be so close to the supernatural. Don't forget the darkness in your heart, it'll haunt you down forever. So you'll need to learn how to maintain the balance in and out of you."

Shocked, Stiles had to sit down again, saying things no one could really understand, talking to himself. He had only absorbed half of the words.

"How do I do that? How am I supposed to maintain my inner balance?" he asked weakly.

"The Nemeton was meant to that." Deaton answered. "Marin and I've been searching for a new Nemeton in years, but we had little success. Fae told us about the alder trees, that we need to look for them, but she never were specific and we have no idea where it is."

"Can't we use the old Nemeton?" Scott asked. "It's powered again."

"Its power will drain fast, we need a new place. It needs to be natural and connected, peaceful and indescribable."

"And this place has alder trees?" Malia asked, her dark eyes already blue. She looked at all of them full of energy.

"The place Fae told us, yes."

She nodded.

"I know where it is."

Stiles' eyes went wild.

"How?" he asked.

"I used to go there all the time. It was my favorite spot after my den."

"Malia, can you take us there?" Deaton asked, hope in his eyes. She had fangs now and her claws dig in her palms. Scott himself could feel his change. She nodded.

Seconds later, a coyote was standing on its four legs, her clothes ragged around her body.

"You did! You turned back!" Stiles said excited and he knelt down. Her eyes were clear and she didn't attempt to bite him when he started to unwrap the rags from her body. "Okay. You can take us to the Nemeton, can't you?" she made a sound that sounded much as agreement. "All right, then open the door, someone."

They all headed to the front door and as soon as Scott opened it, Malia started to run. Taken by surprise, both boys and the vet had a moment of shock before Scott ran after her.

"Take my bike!" he shouted, tossing him the keys and quickly Stiles was climbing on his friend's motocycle.

"Well, are you coming or not?" he asked Deaton, while putting on the helmet and the Doc nodded, opening the garage door. He had his own bike.

"Go ahead, I'm right behind you." And before he could finish, Stiles was already on his way.

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**A/N: **A bit of action, why not? I have no idea how this chapter ended up in quality, but it has everything I wanted it to have. I'm gonna try to update again ASAP.

Please review? Please? And thank you for reading! x


	10. Healing

**Author's note**: Hello guys, it's been a bit longer than usual, but I had to study for a couple of exams, don't want to rerun the fiasco of my last graduation, don't I?

But here I am. I was dying to write it, but I couldn't because I had to focus and now that the test os over (and I think I did okay, even) I reserved the day to get it ready and here it is.

I didn't reread it, so it probably has a few mistakes, but **yall know that my english is pretty bad** by now and yall survived, so I think everyone can handle, huh?

I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I'm aware that we've been having very few Lydia, so I'll fix it up. Just had to have this chapters done.

Also, do you miss a certain Hale whose name starts with 'De' and ends with 'rek'? I miss that grumpy cat.

And now for the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter nine: Healing**

"_Woken up like an animal, I'm all ready for healing.  
(…) I think that I'm still human._"  
Daughter

For an instant, Stiles wasn't very sure which path Malia and Scott had taken, but it was just an instant. Soon he heard over the motorcycle roar the alpha howl and it was easy to find the way through the houses and shortly after, the woods. Deaton was right behind him and he had a bike way cooler than Scott's that easily left him behind.

They headed to a part of the woods, opposite from the previous Nemeton, where Stiles never used to go. In fact, he knew little about that part of the reservation. It wasn't even near the place where Malia's accident happened, and he wondered how much the girl had to walk to find food or run from cougars.

It took almost half an hour bumping in tree roots and diverting from animals for them to get to the denser part of the woods and they had to leave the bikes. Scott, with his red wolf eyes, was waiting for them and they walked the last twenty or so meters, the path full of willows trees with their branches doing a good job at both hiding and leading the way.

Right before they saw two hidden willows placed so close, their branches and leaves formed a curtain to a space where two people could barely pass at the same time, Deaton gasped, as if he was suddenly breathless.

"Can't you feel it already?" he asked the two boys. Scott nodded, but Stiles was distracted by the sound of water. The Doc continued. "It's strong. Good. We need it."

He was also the first to go through the natural curtain, followed by Stiles and Scott, and what they saw next was absolutely breathtaking.

The place was absolutely beautiful. It was a glade larger than they expected; their pack could go there and stay comfortable with no worries. The grass was tall and green, dandelions all around the ground, swaying with the breeze. It smelled strongly as wet grass and pine and the amazing alder tree Deaton talked about was almost at the center of the glade.

Right after the tree, there was a very discreet creek, its water running rhythmically, a tree trunk halfway inside it. They supposed that that trunk was the reason that place existed in the first place. It was very large, even though the tree couldn't be very tall, and the fall should've happened very long before, because there was ivy all over it.

They made their way around the alder tree and Malia was there – not the coyote Malia, but the girl, naked and with her hands on the water. Stiles shrugged off his plaid shirt and she put it on. It covered her just fine, but she couldn't care less.

"It's wilder than the last time I came here." She said, her arms around her body, holding the shirt in its place. "It's been a while. But it still is beautiful, isn't it? I always thought it was magical, and it seems it really is."

Beyond the creek, there was a gigantic rock that closed the circle. There was ivy everywhere.

"This place is full of sacred trees." Deaton said, turning around the tree and going back to the clearing. Right there, everyone seemed to talk soberly and low. "Willows, Ivies and Alders are some of the more powerful living things in this world. How did you find this place, Malia?"

"After the accident." She replied. "I just wandered around until I found here. And I used to come back once in a while, just because it's quiet and the cats don't like it here."

Stiles stopped paying attention to the conversation and started to pay attention to the place he was in. He _felt_ different, as if something was calling him all along, and now he simply was there for it. He rounded the alder tree. He didn't know much about Nemetons, and for a long time he thought it was all about the tree, but the Nemeton was a _place_ – sacred, natural and full of power.

That glade as a whole was the Nemeton. But it sure had a central point. And the central point usually was at the center, so he saw himself stopping in front of the alder tree. It kind of was the middle of the glade, wasn't it? With the creek behind and the willows around. And as if he was dragged to it, he raised his left hand – the hand, he knew well, where Lydia made all the drawings – and he suddenly was surrounded by countless points of light that sounded like a song, encouraging him to go ahead.

The moment his fingers touched the tree, he felt powered up, filled with an devotion he never knew he could have – to protect and to counsel, to learn and teach and be different. It was as if white fire was burning his skin and he felt peace. Real peace, for the first time in years, for there was a voice (a voice he thought he was forgetting, a sound buried deep inside his memories, filled with the good in the world) telling him it was okay, it wasn't his fault. The voice was his mother and it was Erica and Allison and Aiden and they told him everything would be all right and he would heal. And for the first time he believed.

-X-

The light was in Lydia's room as well; the banshee, lying in her bed, her fingers touching the fading symbol of the lock cried. She could never lock herself out of the supernatural, she could never not hear the voices. And she couldn't deny that the voices, this time, were good and they wanted her to be fine. Lydia wanted to be fine.

"Do you mean it, Allison?" she whispered the question, the light all over her. The answer was yes.

-X-

When Stiles turned away from the tree, a couple of tears sliding down his cheeks, the drawing wasn't burning so much and he ink had faded almost completely. He saw Malia on her knees, her face to the moon and the lights were all around her, in her hair and her eyes, as if she was dear to them. The moon, high in the sky, made every detail clear and she was crying too, silently.

Looking around, Stiles saw that Scott had the lights too, but his reaction was different – more surprised than emotional, curious even.

"What is happening?" Stiles asked Deaton, who was walking around the Nemeton chanting something he couldn't understand.

"Elementals." Was the vet's answer, as if it was enough. But at that moment, it kind of was.

Stiles kneeled in front of Malia as soon as the lights started to fade. She reached to his face, caressed the places where his tears dropped and he kissed her eyes, salty with her own tears.

"Are you all right?" he asked, their foreheads touching.

"Yes." She answered and he kissed her one more time, lightly in the lips. "It's almost like a dream." She whispered and he couldn't agree more.

-X-

They let Malia go in her coyote form, Scott could find the way back and lead the others. Besides, she deserved some time in her new old skin by herself, she earned it.

On the way back, Deaton explained that, since the place was found by Malia, it had a connection with the animals, so all that chanting was to maximize the Nemeton's protection. No living thing could harm or be harmed inside the Nemeton, not when it's powered up, and the connections made there – because of Stiles, the new Druid, Malia, the werecoyote that first stepped there with innocent blood in her fur, Scott, a true alpha and Lydia's tattoos – would give it strength for days.

Midnight was past gone when Stiles finally got home. He had gotten a call from Lydia and they briefly told each other about their weird experiences, promising to get in details the following day. His father was nowhere to be found and he headed straight to his bedroom, leaving keys, shoes and jackets on the way.

He knew something was off as soon as he opened the door. And of course she wanted the window to stay open, because Malia – the coyote Malia – was sleeping in his bed. Carefully, he got closer and gently caressed the fluffy fur of her neck, shaking her lightly.

"Mal?" he called, trying to talk low so he wouldn't wake his dad. "Malia, wake up." He needed a couple more tries to convince her to open her eyes – not blue, but dark as they usually were. "Mal, come on, change back. You can't sleep in my bed like this, the comforter will be full of fur." She growled annoyed. "Malia." Stiles said one more time and with a sigh she moved.

Her transformation was something that amazed him from day one (that was, really, a few hours before, since he wasn't there the first time Scott forced her back to human) and it happened so fluidly that it was mesmerizing – the way the paws became hands, the fur reducing to all the body hair she had and her curves taking the shape of the beautiful girl sometimes he couldn't believe he had.

"Hi." She greeted.

"No coyote in my bed." He quickly said and she pouted. "Next full moon I'll find you a dog house.

"Fuck you."

They laughed and he reached for her hand. They were like this for a while, Stiles sitting on the floor, Malia lying over the covers, looking at each other, holding hands, until she decided it was better to take a shower before going to sleep.

She doesn't take long on the shower, but when she came back, Stiles, only in his boxer shorts, was already asleep; he hadn't even bothered to get under the comforter and she knew why: it was a hot night for April. Malia still felt cold most of the time, but to be in her fur for a few ours proved to be surprisingly hot and she caught herself longing for her human skin more than she would expect.

After a few minutes of rubbing her hair with a towel to help it dry faster, she was satisfied with the result and very tired. The moon, still high in the sky, was asking her to go outside, run in the woods, but she was fine, thank you. First full moon in a long time she felt fine.

So Malia went to bed. Tiptoeing her way there, she passed one leg over Stiles and suddenly couldn't resist herself. She loved his scent and when he was sleeping was when it was more evident. Well, sleeping and during sex. But she never had much focus to concentrate on all the smells that made him Stiles during sex, so now was her moment. Lowering her head, she started to sniff him from the line of his boxer, made her way up following the path of his chest hair, slowly.

Stiles usually smelled of soap, salt and musk. She knew it by heart since Echo House and before the whole couch moment. The moment she sneaked the keys for him and he held her, making sure she was okay, she noticed; and when Marin asked her if she could find where he was just by his scent – if she remembered his scent even faintly -, because someone needed to wake him up, he _could not_ sleep, she said yes, hoping that it wasn't evident that his scent made a bigger effect in her than it probably should.

That night, he also smelled of catkins, another smell she knew well because of the alder tree of the Nemeton. It fit him perfectly.

"Stop sniffing me, it's weird." He complained. She knew he was awake by now because of his heartbeat. And she continued on, going up his neck and jaw line. "Mal, I'm sleeping." Stiles said one more time, sleepy voice and Malia stopped.

"Okay." She said and got off him, quickly getting under the comforter.

He opened his eyes surprised that she actually stopped (and, to be honest, a bit sad about it too) and got under the comforter with her, even though it wasn't cold at all.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. They were lying on their sides, looking at each other and very, very close.

"New. Comfortable. In control." She said, an easy answer for everything going on in her mind. "And that's all because of you."

Stiles shrugged, dismissing it.

"Nah, don't be so hard on yourself. Of course I'm mostly the reason, but in the end you did it, Malia, _you_. You're amazing."

Her hand was on his chest, feeling his heartbeat in her palm and he was caressing her hair lightly, something she liked very much. Malia looked at his wrist, the ink of Lydia's drawing almost completely gone. She held his wrist, her thumb round the circle of knots that limited the tree.

"Druid, huh?" she commented, her voice filled with the laziness of the sleepy people. "Is there anyone in this town who's just human?"

Stiles pulled her closer and she yawned in his chest. He was almost asleep again too, but still managed to answer.

"You never know."

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**A/N**: Thank you so, so much for reading and reviewing and following and favoriting (is that even a word?) my fanfic. I'd really appreaciate if you took a little bit of time to review. I love me some reviews.

See you, and I hope you liked the chapter! x


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